


Grown Men Don’t Cry

by MarmeLady_Orange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Arguing, Asexual Character (Hannah), Biphobia, Bisexuality, Broken Engagement, Castiel works in a funeral home, Cheating, Christmas, Dead people (clients), Dean has a trench coat kink, Developing Relationship, Dysfunctional Family, Fake/Pretend Relationship (only for a couple of hours), Falling In Love, Family Drama, Family Feels, Fighting, First Times (Dean bottom and Castiel top), Happy Ending for Everyone, Homophobia, Homosexuality, Implied/Referenced Suicide (past event), M/M, Making Up, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Mental Health Issues, Miscommunication, New Year's Eve, POV Castiel, Self-Esteem Issues, Sex Toys, Stalking (some internet and some irl), anger issues, friendships, past character deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-14
Updated: 2018-11-14
Packaged: 2019-08-21 06:25:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 69,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16571366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarmeLady_Orange/pseuds/MarmeLady_Orange
Summary: Mortuary makeup artist Castiel Shurley is in the closet and insecure. When he spots Dean Winchester on the bus, he believes they are meant to be and vows the man will one day be his, engaged or not.Set in 2014/2015DCBB 2018





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally, the time has come. This thing has been on my mind for quite some time, mostly because I was obsessed with the movie it’s based on since the moment I saw it back in the ’90s: Babycakes, with Ricki Lake. Lifetime-type of b-movie. No need to judge me, I’ve taken care of that already. 
> 
> Anyway… it’s only a couple of years ago that I started to think I’d like to write my own version of it with Destiel in mind. If you’ve ever seen the movie, you’ll notice how I changed quite a bit of stuff plot-wise. Mostly, it’s set in 2014 and Castiel, although he has self-doubt issues, they are not about him being overweight. I mean, I’ve given him enough issues as it is. No worries, no fat-shaming here, I am overweight myself… I just thought I’d spare him that. And anyway, no need to be overweight to have body issues. ;)
> 
> I have so many people to thank… first of all, my marvelous beta [outofminutes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/outofminutes/pseuds/outofminutes), the one that’s been helping me for years now to be able to give you readable stuff. I’m extremely grateful for all the marvelous work she’s done.
> 
> I also have to thank our DCBB mods, Muse and Jojo, for being so present through this whole thing and helping out with any little thing anyone would need. An amazing amount of work they both tackled with this thing, and I couldn’t be more appreciative.
> 
> Last, and certainly not least, is the marvelous artist I was lucky enough to be paired with in extremis (and sorry again to my previous appointed artist to have omitted important tags, I hope you’re doing okay). I believe [lotrspnfangirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/) she did an amazing colossal amount of work in providing me with all the little artworks peppered throughout all the fic. Please, go give her some love, she certainly deserves it.
> 
> So… there we are… time for you to start reading, I guess. I truly hope you’ll like it. Don’t hesitate to tell me what you think, I’d love to read you. Much love all around!!!

 

~ • ~

 

Castiel was helping Hannah put the finishing touches on Mrs. Jackson’s makeup when their boss, Mr. Adler, walked into the prepping room.

“Is she close to being done?” he asked, coming to examine the dead woman’s appearance. “Don’t remember her having this much hair,” he added with a disdained sniff.

“Mr. Jackson gave me his mother’s favorite wig. I just styled it a bit poofier so she’d look lively.”

Zachariah huffed and started tapping the hair to flatten it. He then lifted her head to take a closer look and huffed again. “Did you work on the back of her head? You know it doesn’t do any good, right? Nobody sees the back of the head.”

Noticing the panicked gasp Hannah let out, Castiel looked up at her and winked before looking back at his boss. “I believe she deserves to look her best, Sir. It’s the last time her family’s going to see her, why shouldn’t I be taking the time to make her look good?”

“Because the extra time you take costs money, Castiel. Didn’t you ask to be let out early today anyway?”

“I did,” Castiel confirmed as he untied his apron. He was about to pull it over his head when Zachariah scoffed at him. He aborted the movement, squinting.

“You still have a body to take care of, Castiel. Mr. Simpson? The viewing starts early tomorrow, you need to work on him now.”

Castiel shook his head, taking off his apron. “Hannah can take care of him, Mr. Adler. He doesn’t need all that much work anyway.”

“But she’s a novice.”

“Not so much, no. She’s been working here for almost two years now. She can do this on her own.”

“I can do it, Sir. It’s a fairly easy one to do,” Hannah provided, only to be ignored by their boss.

“You’re the head mortuary artist, Castiel. Even if she does it, your job is to make sure it’s flawless. Which is why I forbid you to—”

“I told you over a month ago I needed the afternoon off, Sir. You agreed. My father’s getting married…” He looked at his watch and gasped. “He’s getting married in an hour and I still have to get there.” He sent a pleading gaze to his boss, hoping he would understand. “I’ll come in early tomorrow to make sure everything is okay with Mr. Simpson. How is that?”

Zachariah lifted his chin and pursed his lips, looking back at Castiel with contempt. “I won’t be paying you any overtime, Castiel. I hope you know that.”

“I know,” Castiel answered with a sigh as he put the apron on its hook. He winked at Hannah who gave him a tight smile in return. “See you tomorrow, Hannah.”

He made a quick job of gathering his coat and bag, having to come back into the room when he realized he had forgotten his father’s wedding gift. He never once looked at Zachariah as he did, worried the man would have had time to find another excuse to make him stay. He also kept his gaze averted as he crossed paths with the people gathered in the foyer of the funeral home. If he stopped, he’d end up feeling he had to speak to every one of them, and he’d rather do as if he hadn’t seen them than having to excuse himself to leave.

He glanced at the clock on the wall as he dashed outside, figuring he’d put his coat on once at the bus stop, or even on the bus. At least running all the way there kept him somewhat warm. He had just turned the corner when he saw his bus driving away.

“Hey! Wait!” he called as he started running faster. Sadly, he wasn’t fast enough and the bus soon disappeared in the traffic. Castiel came to a stop at the bus shelter, breathing heavy. He dropped his bag on the bench, along with the painting he intended to give his father. He took a minute to put his tan trench coat on as he read the schedule on the wall.

“Shit!” he said out loud when he saw the next bus wouldn’t be there until twenty minutes later. 

He huffed as he looked up at the sky. Since the morning, dark clouds had amassed overhead and if the painting were to be exposed to the rain, it would be ruined. The only way he could get to the wedding now was if he took a cab. For once, luck seemed to be on his side as he spotted one coming his way. He got out of the shelter, waving both arms to make sure the driver saw him. He did, soon swerving to stop next to him.

Castiel dropped his belongings in the back seat, himself getting inside just as it started to rain. 

“Where to?” the man at the wheel asked, looking at Castiel through the rearview mirror.

Castiel barely looked at him as he gave the address, making sure to keep his eyes averted as they made their way to the church. He sucked at small talk and didn’t feel like getting exposed to that right now. The rain wasn’t pouring too hard, but Castiel still wondered how Naomi, his father’s bride to be, felt about it all. Because everything had to be perfect all the time. Everything and everyone. And especially Castiel.

He looked down at himself to notice he had dropped some foundation on his blue tie. Maybe wearing it to work hadn’t been the best of ideas. He wet his thumb and tried to wipe the makeup away, without much success. He’d have to try and find a bathroom before going to meet Chuck and Naomi because he couldn’t let her see the stain. She would have enough against him as it was, especially since he didn’t bother buying a new suit for the event. Today wasn’t the best day to go and give her more ammo than she already had.

The driver stopped at the church twenty minutes later rather the forty-five it would have taken by bus. Castiel thanked him, handing out a twenty dollar bill before getting out quickly. Not that he was in a hurry anymore, but because it was all the cash he had on him and it only gave the driver a little over two dollars in tip.

He ran inside the building, making a beeline for the restrooms. In the harsh lights, the stain looked even worse and Castiel winced as he examined it in the mirror. He grabbed a paper towel to put in under the tap, adding a bit of soap in the hopes it would help. He tried to rub the stain away, cursing under his breath as it only seemed to be embedding the makeup deeper in the fabric.

The high pitched “Hi, Castiel,” that echoed in the bathroom startled him. He looked up in the mirror to see his stepbrother looking back at him with a gigantic smile.

“Samandriel,” Castiel said as he turned around to hug the nine-year-old boy. “You look very dapper,” he added, getting an even wider smile back.

“Momma says I look like a man. Chuck even let me wear some of his cologne,” he said as he came closer so Castiel could smell him. As Castiel did, the child’s eyes caught the mess on Castiel’s tie. “What’s wrong with your tie?”

“I stained it,” Castiel said, feeling a bit of heat taint his cheeks. “I’m trying to clean it up.”

Samandriel nodded, a serious look on his face. “You could turn it around. It’s clean on the other side, right?”

Castiel chuckled at the boy’s suggestion. “Well, yeah, it’s clean, but it’s gonna be backward. I don’t think it’d be much better.”

“I think it’d look cool,” Samandriel countered, giving him a thumbs up. “You wanna look cool, don’t you? I know I do,” he added, pulling on both his pant legs to show mismatched socks. How the hell did this little detail pass Naomi’s inspection? “We’ll be cool together.”

Samandriel’s eagerness was enough to make Castiel agree, working on his tie to flip it around. “How’s that?”

“Super cool! I gotta go pee,” Samandriel said before locking himself in a stall.

“Okay, little man. I’ll see you out there.”

Castiel left the room, walking toward the front of the church’s main room to find a seat. Oddly enough, there wasn’t a single free chair in the first row. He looked around to find the second row just as filled up. Even worse, ninety percent of the people seated in the first rows, he’d never even seen before. He spotted Hester, Naomi’s sister and maid of honor, greeting people further down the aisle.

“Hello, Hester,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned around, her smile dwindling just a little bit when she saw him. “Oh… hello, Castiel. We didn’t think you’d make it. Glad you could join us.”

As he’d been doing ever since Chuck and Naomi got together, Castiel chose to ignore the not so subtle contempt of her tone. “Hmm… there doesn’t seem to be a place for me to sit in the first row. Or even the second… that’s a mistake, right? Somebody’s not where they’re supposed to be?”

“Oh, Sweetheart… like I said, we didn’t think you’d show up, so we filled up the rows with those who actually RSVP’d.”

“I did RSVP,” Castiel said, anger now buzzing under his skin. “Told my dad and Naomi I’d be there. They knew.”

The pitying look on Hester’s face almost made Castiel lose his temper. He took a deep breath instead. “I’m sorry, Castiel. A simple matter of miscommunication, I’m sure.” She looked at her watch and sighed. “Look, there isn’t much we can do for now, but I’ll whip up something for the dinner party, all right?” She tilted her head, once more with that pitying smile. “It’s a blessing that you didn’t have anyone to bring. How embarrassed would you have been if you had?”

Hester didn’t wait for Castiel to respond as she moved aside to greet some more people Castiel had never seen before. He shook his head and went to the fourth row of chairs, choosing to sit on the far right so his bag and painting wouldn’t be in anyone’s way. And so he could sulk in peace without people paying too much attention to him.


	2. Chapter 2

 

The ceremony, even though it only lasted about thirty minutes, seemed to last forever for Castiel. As his father took Naomi as his new wife, Castiel ignored the many curious looks that were sent his way. He kept his eyes to the front, wondering if his father would even try to find him in the small crowd.

He didn’t, not that Castiel found it surprising. Chuck had never been the most present or demonstrative father while Castiel was growing up, and meeting Naomi had only made matters worse. The man that had done a good enough job of raising Castiel on his own after his wife died had become distant, the only thing important in his eyes now being the woman who replaced Castiel’s mom in his heart. And who also seemed to have replaced Castiel.

At least, Castiel had been old enough to go live on his own within the first year of Naomi and her son moving into Chuck’s house. Having his own bedroom requisitioned for the kid’s sake hadn’t been what had bothered him the most. No, it had been his father not saying a word against his new girlfriend insisting that Castiel sleep on the pull-out couch in Chuck’s office. Just like he never objected when she made Castiel promise to put everything back as it should be every morning.

After about six months of that, Castiel had had enough and found an apartment closer to his new job as a mortician’s assistant. The pay hadn’t been great – still wasn’t – but he hadn’t felt like he had a choice to move out. Since that moment, he’d only gotten to see his father once a week, for Sunday night dinners or on the rare Holidays they didn’t spend with her family. For some reason, any other day never seemed to work for Naomi, so Castiel had stopped trying to see his father more often. And as far as he knew, Chuck never bothered trying either.

Castiel was pulled away from his own mind when he realized people had started applauding. He only had time to see the bride and groom walk down the aisle before they disappeared into the next room. Neither had looked his way and Castiel’s heart deflated as he grabbed his bag and gift to follow everyone to the lower level for the party.

There was a table set to receive the gifts, but Castiel walked past it. He wanted to see the look on his father’s face when he unwrapped the painting. Castiel had found this great artist online who hadn’t charged him an arm and a leg to reproduce his father’s favorite picture of the both of them. It had been taken during their annual vacation at the beach when Castiel was only ten years old. It didn’t include Naomi or Samandriel, but Castiel couldn’t have cared less.

He made his way to the main table, hoping he’d at least be able to sit with them. His heart sank when he noticed a waiter setting an extra chair at the very end of the table. Obviously, nobody would have been moved on his account. He gritted his teeth and went back to see Hester who didn’t even try to hide her annoyance this time.

“I had someone set up a place for you. I mean, if you had brought someone, it would have been easier. Everybody’s got a plus one, but I can’t have two people move for one, you know what I mean?” As she spoke, Hester patted Castiel’s shoulder. “The table would look unbalanced. It’s still unbalanced this way, but at least you’re in the shadows on that side, so it’s not too bad. Don’t think all that many pictures will be taken in that angle anyway.”

Once more feeling like he was about to explode, Castiel bit the inside of his cheek to keep from saying anything. He gave Hester a curt nod and went back to the table to see a post-it with his name scribbled on it rather than a printed place card like everyone else had. He leaned the wrapped painting against the wall and sat down to watch the people move around the room. Most of them were laughing, hugging, and talking to each other. Hester had been right to say Castiel was in the shadows because nobody really noticed him, which in itself was kind of a blessing.

The other blessing, in Castiel’s opinion, had to be the young Samandriel. It didn’t matter that Castiel didn’t share blood with the kid, he loved him dearly. How Naomi had been able to spawn such a sweet boy would forever throw Castiel out in a loop. He smiled when Samandriel came to see him.

“Found you,” he said, giggling. “Why are you hiding?”

“Not hiding, Samandriel. This is where I sit.”

“Why? You’re far from us.”

Castiel shrugged, not about to start badmouthing the kid’s aunt because he was pissed at her. “I like it better this way. We’ll see each other plenty on the dance floor later,” he said with a wink, which made Samandriel squeal and clap his hands.

“Yay!” he said before turning around to run away.

Castiel chuckled and leaned back on his chair, starting to get hungry. He grabbed a roll from the basket on the table and tore it in half right when the music started playing. People moved toward the dance floor but didn’t get on it. The DJ’s voice echoed over the music.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Chuck and Naomi Shurley!”

A cacophony of wolf whistles, screams, and clapping greeted the newlyweds. Even after getting to his feet, Castiel couldn’t manage to see his father and stepmother. He sat back down, knowing he’d see them soon enough. They were bound to come and sit at the table once they were done dancing. Except they didn’t… not immediately, anyway.

They went to stand at the other end of the table instead, people quickly forming some kind of line. One at a time, they offered their congratulations to the couple. Castiel waited until the line looked complete, then took the painting to go stand at the very end. It took close to half an hour for him to finally be able to talk to them.

Like she usually did, Naomi gave Castiel an overly exaggerated greeting.

“Oh, my Lord… Castiel… I thought you couldn’t make it. So, so glad to see you,” she squealed as she engulfed Castiel in a strong – yet reserved – hug. She let him go quickly, not waiting for him to congratulate her before turning away to talk to someone who had been standing close by. Castiel sighed and stepped aside to congratulate his father. At least, Chuck seemed genuinely happy to see him.

“Castiel, my boy,” he said before taking him in his arms, hugging him for much longer than Naomi had. “When Naomi said you couldn’t make it, it broke my heart, Cassie. So happy you changed your mind,” Chuck said before hugging him again, more briefly this time.

Although tempted to remind his father he’d confirmed his presence months ago, Castiel chose not to be difficult. He took a step back to hand Chuck the wrapped square.

“What’s this? A gift?”

Castiel nodded. “Just something I thought you’d like. Don’t think you guys need a toaster, so—”

Chuck laughed, already tearing the paper apart. He let the paper and bow fall to the floor, looking at the painting in shock. “Did you do this?” he asked, his gaze a bit shiny.

“No… I had an artist do it. It’s that picture of us you like, remember?”

“Naomi, Honey. Look what Castiel gave us. It’s that picture I like,” Chuck said as he tilted the painting so she could see. “We could probably hang it in the living room or something. It would look nice, don’t you think?”

She turned to him, barely glancing at the portrait before wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“That’s very nice, Charles. See who’s finally made it… my cousin, Nathaniel. The editor? You really should talk to him about that thing you’ve been writing.”

Before Castiel could say anything against it, his father had given him back the painting in favor of meeting his bride’s cousin. Castiel swallowed, his gaze downward.

“Yeah, no need to hang it, it’s not that good anyway,” he said in a low voice, going to drop the frame on the table with the other gifts. He went back to his seat to grab his coat and bag and left the room, not in the mood to celebrate anymore. Not that he ever was.

Nobody talked to him as he made his way back outside. He went to the bus stop he’d found when he researched the area and sat on the bench to wait. He wasn’t in a rush anymore and he had no more cash to spare, so Castiel waited. The right bus stopped at the shelter almost an hour later, nobody ever coming to look for him.

He went to sit in the back, once more feeling the need to make himself as small as possible. At almost six feet, it shouldn’t have been an easy feat. Still, Castiel had realized early on he could blend in a crowd pretty easily. Most people he’d meet wouldn’t remember him or his name, and it suited him well.

He got off the bus after twenty minutes to wait for his transfer bus, which got there a couple of minutes later. This one had more people on it, but Castiel was still able to find a place to sit. He kept his gaze outside, right until a cluster of people got on the bus about five minutes later.

That was the first time Castiel ever laid eyes on Dean Winchester.


	3. Chapter 3

 

When Castiel saw Dean Winchester for the first time, he wouldn’t have known to call him that. No, at that moment, Dean was given the moniker of ‘Freckled Prince’. It only lasted a couple of minutes, up until Castiel noticed the name tag sewn onto the man’s dark blue coveralls.

“Dean,” he said under his breath, unable to tear his eyes from the beautiful man’s profile. He closed his mouth with a pop and stopped breathing, worried the man could have heard him. He apparently didn’t, never once looking his way.

Feeling bold, Castiel let his eyes roam over the man’s freckled features, his short, light brown hair, the green eyes almost glowing thanks to the setting sun. He made a point of looking away once in a while, only to go back to his observation after a couple of seconds. He wet his lips as he considered what looked like a tight muscular body wrapped in the rough cotton fabric, thinking it deserved to be wrapped in satin instead.

Satin pajamas, not what he was used to seeing his clients lying on. He choked on his own spit when Dean pivoted toward him. Castiel’s heart stopped, only to start again when it became clear the man hadn’t noticed him as he prepared to get off the bus.

Before he knew what was happening, Castiel got up to follow Dean outside. He was still pretty far from his place, but he didn’t mind. He looked around to see the top of the man’s head as he turned around the corner. Castiel followed the same way, praying he wouldn’t have lost him.

There weren’t that many people on the sidewalk now and Castiel found himself with a privileged view of Dean’s back. He shook his head when he realized his gaze had fixated on the man’s butt. He forced his eyes upward to see the logo printed on the back of his coveralls; _Singer’s Auto Services_.

Castiel stayed many paces behind the object of his desire. He made sure to remember everything he could about the man, knowing he’d probably never see him again. He started wondering how much longer the guy would be walking when he stopped in front of a modern – and quite posh looking – apartment building.

At first glance, Castiel would never have believed the man could afford to stay in such a place. Still, he got his keys out and let himself in. Castiel started walking faster, curious to see if he’d be able to see what floor Dean might be going to.

When he reached the glass doors, Dean had already disappeared. Castiel’s stomach dropped in his heels.

“Damn it!” he let out, deflated.

He looked around the area, noticing the commercial building on the other side of the street. He took another mental note and turned away to walk toward his own home. As he did, he started regretting not attempting to talk to Dean.

The more he walked, the worse Castiel felt. When he unlocked his apartment door, it was with trembling hands, the mental weight of the entire afternoon too heavy to bear anymore. He slammed the door shut by leaning on it as he tried to regain control of his emotions. He’d only been a block away from his home when his anxiety had started acting up. Going up the stairs had been the hardest thing, almost collapsing midway because his breathing had gotten too shallow.

Castiel couldn’t have said how much time it took for him to calm down. All he knew was that at some point, he had let himself fall to the floor as he tried to regulate his breathing. He closed his eyes and thumped his head on the door, mumbling ‘stupid!’ every time he hit the wood and berating himself for being so emotionally damaged.

Even though it took Castiel some time to calm down, it was still quite early when he got back to his feet to chuck his trench coat off. He knew eating wouldn’t go all that well, so he got into bed without bothering to change in his PJs or even set his alarm clock for the next morning. What he did instead was power up his laptop and set it on his lap.

He went to Google and typed ‘Singer’s Auto Services’ in the search window. The first result was an actual ad that linked to the website of a business in his town of Lawrence, KS. He clicked on it, ignoring how his heart had started racing again.

His breath hitched again when the picture on the main page confirmed Castiel had found the right website. Amidst a row of employees – all wearing the same dark blue coveralls – was the man Castiel had seen on the bus: Dean. He looked around, his heart soaring when he found a link titled ‘About Us’. He clicked, only to see a burly looking man in a trucker’s cap pop up.

Next to his picture, a small bio for a man called Bobby Singer. Castiel didn’t bother reading and scrolled down to see another older man, this one named Rufus Turner. As he kept scrolling, Castiel prayed that the guy he’d seen would be on there. He had to wait until he got to the very bottom of the page to find him.

Unlike the others, he didn’t have a different picture than what was on the main page. It had only been cropped and blown up to fill the square. Next to it, his name; Dean Winchester. Again, unlike the other employees, his bio didn’t say much, only that he’d been working on cars all his life and that he could do pretty much anything clients would ask for.

Elated to have found this new information, Castiel went into his Facebook account. This time, in the search window, he typed Dean Winchester. There were a couple of results, but none of the profiles matched the man he’d seen on the bus. Until he noticed one of the pictures had a black muscle car instead of a face.

Seeing Dean was a mechanic, it could have made sense that he’d have a car as his profile picture. He clicked on it, only to find out it had been set to private. He cursed under his breath, opening Google again to search for a Dean Winchester. If of the Facebook profiles he’d seen popped up, one jumped right out of the page: A Facebook post by a Lawrence woman named Lydia Canning announcing her engagement to Dean Winchester, the one with the car profile picture. He clicked on it.

Unlike Dean, that woman’s page was open for all to view. He clicked on the link to her pictures to find he had been right to think this was his Dean Winchester. There were lots of pictures, most of them selfies the woman took of the both of them, often with enough of Dean’s face cropped so the girl’s entire face would fit in the frame.

He went through everything he could find. He even downloaded the few he found of Dean alone, ignoring how creepy that made him. His favorite had to be the one of Dean standing next to the same car from his profile, the sun coming up from behind them. Dean’s body was mostly a shadow, but Castiel couldn’t help finding the picture amazing. He licked his lips at the thought of having that picture printed poster size and hanging it over his bed.

As desire ran through his veins, Castiel kept the picture on the screen as he moved the computer away. He made sure he could still see the picture as he lay down, sliding a hand down to unfasten his pants. He hissed when he wrapped a hand over his rapidly growing length, planting his feet firmly on the mattress.

His eyes on Dean’s silhouette, he jerked himself off, soon sending his other hand to massage his balls and tickle his taint as he fucked into his fist. Until he closed his eyes, bringing back the images from earlier; Dean’s tight butt, his beautiful bowed legs, his wide shoulders, the muscles he could imagine moving underneath the fabric…

Castiel soon came with a strangled shout, his toes curling on the mattress and his back arching up. He took a minute to ride the wave, looking down at his body to see his deflating dick glistening with semen. He winced when he noticed how the ill-fitted slacks and oversized shirt he’d worn to the wedding hadn’t been spared.

Now if only Naomi could see that, then she’d have a legitimate reason to judge him.


	4. Chapter 4

 

Although he had forgotten to set his alarm, Castiel woke up early enough to come into work like he had promised Zachariah. He didn’t really feel the need to look over Hannah’s work, but he knew Mr. Adler just loved to exercise his control over them. Even knowing that, he walked into the funeral home a little before eight with a smile on his face.

Hannah came in a couple of minutes later, holding two coffees from the nearest cafe.

“What are you doing here?” Castiel asked, nodding in thanks when she handed him one of the cardboard cups. “You know Zach won’t pay you for overtime, right?”

She shrugged, sipping on her own coffee. “I know. I just thought I should be here in case you find anything wrong with my work.”

“You know I won’t, Hannah… you’re a great makeup artist. I only said I’d come in so he’d let me leave yesterday.”

As he spoke, Castiel kept his eyes on Mr. Simpson’s face, making sure Zachariah wouldn’t find anything bad to say. “He’s perfect, Hannah. You ought to be proud of your work,” he said, looking up at her with a smile.

She beamed at him, her cheeks now with a rosy tint. “Thanks, Cas. That’s because you’re a great teacher.”

Mr. Simpson still had to be dressed in his suit for the viewing, so Castiel and Hannah did that together. This way, when Zachariah came in, he’d likely have nothing to complain about. Of course, that had been a bit too optimistic of a thought.

“Can you tell me why that old man looks like he’s coming back from a beach vacation?” Mr. Adler barked when he came to get the body. “It’s the middle of December, Hannah. There’s no way he should look this tanned. Told you she wasn’t ready, Castiel.”

While Hannah could only look at her boss with her eyes wide with fear, Castiel fished the deceased man’s reference picture from the file.

“You know people arrive paler than they should be,” he argued, showing him the picture. “Hannah did a great job at recapturing his true coloring. Pretty sure he was an outdoorsy type of man, look at him. Making him a bit tanned just makes sense.”

Zachariah snatched the picture from Castiel’s hand to look at it more closely, his lips pursed. “Yeah, maybe… still, I find him a bit too red.” He looked up at Castiel, once more ignoring Hannah who preferred it that way. “Make him look less… alive, would you? I’ll be back to get him in ten minutes.”

After their boss left without another word, Castiel turned to Hannah, not surprised to see her on the brink of tears. “He’s being an ass, Hannah. Don’t worry about it,” he said gently as he went to grab the necessary tools. “See, I’ll use this powder, it’s just a hair lighter.” He chuckled as he dabbed the sponge over Mr. Simpson’s skin. “I swear, I’d go and use the same color you did and he’d say Mr. Simpson looks much better like that.”

“I know,” Hannah said in a small voice. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt to have my work belittled this way. I don’t know how you can stand up to him the way you do… I mean… anyone else can just walk all over you, but not this guy?”

“I’ve been where you are, Hannah. He scared the hell out of me, too. Until I realized I was good at my job and that he needed me more than I needed him. I’m glad I’m in a position where I can tell you when you when you do a good job. And you always do, so don’t let him get under your skin, okay? Remember… he needs us more than we need him.”

When Zachariah came back to get Mr. Simpson, he barely acknowledged Castiel’s work. What he did say was that they could leave because they didn’t have anyone else to work on. They didn’t need to be told twice, walking out the door a mere ten minutes later.

“What do you say we go and have some breakfast?” Castiel suggested as they walked toward his place. It was enough for Hannah to stop in her stride, grabbing Castiel’s coat sleeve so he would too.

“What’s with you today? Why are you so chipper?”

Castiel couldn’t help but give her back some kind of giggle, which only intensified her squinting.

“I met someone,” he eventually said. The surprised look on her face was enough to make him chuckle some more. “Well, I didn’t meet him per se, but… I know his name. I know a bunch of stuff actually. He’s so gorgeous, Hannah.”

“You went and stalked some poor guy on the Internet again, didn’t you?”

“It’s not like that,” Castiel defended himself, a sudden heat on his cheek. “I saw him on the bus yesterday… saw where he worked and—” He rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe I’ve stalked him a little. Also found out where he lives.”

“You’re so weird,” Hannah said as she started walking again. “I wonder why you even bother doing all of this. It’s not like you’re ever gonna go and talk to him,” she added when he caught up to her.

“I just might,” Castiel supplied, linking his arm with hers. “He’s so beautiful. Here, take a look.”

He handed Hannah his phone. She huffed, but still took it. One of the pictures Castiel stole from the girlfriend’s Facebook page was already displayed on the screen.

“Wow, okay… I see what you mean. Except, I think he’s a little too pretty, you know what I mean?”

“No, not really. How can someone be too pretty?”

“Pretty people usually know they’re pretty. They’re often cocky, too. Or stupid. Sometimes both.”

Castiel squinted at her. “You’re pretty, Hannah… you’re neither cocky nor stupid.”

Hannah’s cheeks reddened again. “I’m okay looking, but I’m no model, Cas. This guy… he looks like he could be showing off underwear in catalogs.”

“I know,” Castiel admitted in a sigh. “I want him, Hannah… I really do.”

“Then you should go and get him, Cas,” she said, taking her arm back to wrap it around her friend’s shoulders. She didn’t mind agreeing with him, mostly because she knew he’d never have the guts to try talking to the guy.

They didn’t say another word as they walked toward Castiel’s place, not until he decided to turn on a street that had nothing to do with his way home. “I need to show you something,” was all he said as he grabbed Hannah’s hand to pull her behind him.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked at least three times before Castiel stopped in front of a commercial building. She looked up, then back at Castiel, frowning. “What is this place? Is this where we’re having breakfast? Doesn’t look like a restaurant.”

Castiel only winked at her and pulled her again as he walked into the building. There were a couple of elevators, but Castiel went into the stairwell instead. They climbed up to the stoop between the fifth and fourth floor and went to look out the window.

“That’s where he lives,” Castiel said in an excited hush, pointing at the apartment building across the street. “I walked by this morning, just to see if maybe I’d cross paths with him. When I saw this building’s stairs had windows, I came up to see if I could find Dean. And I did.”

Hannah looked to see the man from Castiel’s phone sitting on a sofa next to a girl typing on a laptop. He started to caress her thigh, but she slapped his hand away, looking very much annoyed.

“Okay… that’s not right, Cas. It’s really, really creepy. If they ever see you perving on them like that, they’ll—”

“It’s just until I find a way to introduce myself, Hannah. The more I know, the easier it’ll be.”

“Well, I think you should know enough by now to see the guy’s straight,” Hannah said, only to have Castiel’s hand land on her mouth. “Hush, he’s getting up… look.”

Hannah looked again to see Dean come out on the balcony. He had blue jeans on, a black tee, and a red flannel shirt, and was playing around with a basketball. A couple of seconds later, his girlfriend came to stand in the still open patio door. She seemed to be scolding him now.

“I don’t think she’s very nice,” Castiel provided in a low voice, his eyes never leaving Dean.

The apparent argument ended with the woman, Lydia, slamming the patio door shut. Dean turned his back to the door and rolled his eyes, his jaw set tight as he twirled the ball on his finger. Until he let it fall to take the cell phone out of his pocket.

“He’s not happy with her,” Castiel said as Dean put the phone to his ear. “And the fact that he’s dating a woman doesn’t mean he’s straight, Hannah. He could very well be bisexual. Or in the closet, like me.”

“That would make for a fun date,” Hannah spat, turning away from the window. “Look, I’m getting really hungry. You wanna go have that breakfast or not?”

His eyes never leaving the apartment building across the street, Castiel shook his head. “No, I’m good, not really hungry. Let’s do lunch sometime this week, all right?”

“Fine… have fun stalking your boyfriend. Just don’t let it make you forget about dinner at your father’s tonight.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

 

Castiel didn’t stay much longer at his observation point, mostly because Dean didn’t stay home for very long either. He’d finished his phone call before going back inside, then had another animated discussion with his girlfriend. Soon, he disappeared from Castiel’s view to walk out downstairs a minute later, wearing a worn leather coat.

In a panic, Castiel ran down the stairs. He had to see where the Dean was going without his girlfriend. Not to work, since he wasn’t wearing his work clothes. To the store, maybe? He had to stop running when he saw Dean standing at the corner, seemingly waiting for something. Castiel didn’t have much time to wonder that a tall guy with floppy hair came to grab him in a strong hug.

When Dean returned the gesture just as strongly, Castiel’s heart soared and sunk at the same time. He’d been right; Dean was bisexual or closeted, but he already had a boyfriend. The two men soon let each other go to start walking down the street, away from Dean’s place. His heart in his throat, Castiel followed at a distance to see them enter a tavern-type establishment called _Harvelle’s_.

 

The music that came out through the door made Castiel purse his lips; this was some kind of rock and roll bar. He himself had always been more into the easy-listening kind of music. Still, he entered the dim-lit place and squinted, looking for Dean and his probable lover. He found them sitting at the bar, each already with a beer in hand and chatting up the bartender.

If only to make sure he wouldn’t be seen by them, Castiel sat at a table close enough to the door that it’d be easy to flee if they spotted him. He couldn’t find a reason why they would, but it did make him more comfortable to have an exit strategy. A waitress, blonder and younger than the one tending the bar, came to see him.

“Hello, stranger. What can I get for you?” she said with a crooked smile. “You look like the kind of dude that’s into fancy beer, am I right? We don’t really got those.”

“I don’t like beer,” Castiel said, making sure to keep his gaze on her rather than Dean’s muscular back.

“What do you like, then? Liquor? Cocktails?”

“Do you have wine? I like wine.”

“We do… only one brand and it’s not the best, but we didn’t get any complaints yet. Red or white?”

“Red, please. Thank you.”

She gave him a thumbs up as she walked toward the bar to order his drink. She came back a couple of minutes later, placing a stemmed glass on a paper coaster in front of him. “Four fifty,” she said. “I’m Jo by the way,” she added as he took out his wallet to fish out a five dollar bill. “First time here, am I right?”

“Yeah,” he said as he looked through his pocket in search of some change to give her. Fifty cents wasn’t enough of a tip, that much he knew. When he couldn’t find any, he gave her a shameful look. “I’m sorry, I hadn’t known I’d be stopping here and I have no more money on me.”

Jo winked at him as she took the fifty cents she’d given him back to put it in her money belt. “Don’t worry about it. Most of the time, the drunks in here won’t even bother, so thanks,” she said before leaving him alone once more. It didn’t matter that she’d been nice about it, Castiel still hated not having enough money. The same thing had happened the day before with that taxi driver and he couldn’t bear the thought of not paying his dues. He really should be keeping more cash in his wallet. Not that he thought he had that much to spare.

He drank half of his glass in record time – for him anyway – then had a mind to pace himself. If he wanted to stay for a while, he had to be drinking something. He calmed down and looked on as Dean and his date chugged beer after beer. Castiel was getting closer to the end of his own drink when he noticed the two men getting more affectionate by the second.

Not affectionate to the extent of kissing or groping, but enough to touch, and side-hug a whole lot. They were about four beers each in and had switched to some type of amber liquor two drinks ago. It seemed to be the tipping point for both of them. Castiel drank the last of his wine before checking his watch. It was already two in the afternoon and he should be leaving soon for Sunday dinner at his father’s.

It didn’t matter that he and Naomi had tied the knot only the day before, they still had insisted on dinner happening. Which, in itself, should have been enough to make Castiel happy. Except, at this moment, he would have given anything to stay at the bar instead. He didn’t, knowing he’d never hear the end of it if he dared cancel on Chuck and Naomi.

Heavy-hearted, he walked out of the bar, at a loss as to where to go to catch his bus. He decided walking back toward his apartment would make things easier. He was able to catch the bus at the appropriate time, getting off close to an hour later about a block away from his childhood home.

Samandriel must have been checking up on him because he ran outside the second Castiel turned onto their street. He came to greet him before he could even get to the driveway, Naomi soon appearing in the door frame to call her son back. Castiel waved at her before taking Samandriel’s hand in his as they walked back to the house.

Dinner was served almost immediately, like every Sunday. Castiel would always get there around four, and no later than four thirty would they be seated at the table to eat whatever Naomi had cooked up. And every Sunday, Chuck would sit with them while keeping his eyes on the TV, watching whatever sporting event that had caught his attention that day. It gave Naomi the opportunity to say whatever she pleased without Chuck ever bothering to intervene.

“We were surprised to find you’d left early, Castiel. Without telling anyone, too. Even after Hester moved things around for you. That wasn’t very nice, don’t you think?”

Castiel kept his eyes on his plate. “I felt sick, didn’t want to pass on anything to your guests.”

“Then why did you even come? You weren’t even supposed to be there in the first place.”

This time, Castiel looked up at her. “I told you guys I’d be there. You said okay. When I said I’d be sending my RSVP card, you told me I didn’t need to.”

The surprised expression on Naomi’s face looked genuine enough, even if it didn’t stay there for long. “We did? Oh my, I don’t recall that at all. Are you sure? That doesn’t sound like me.”

Castiel’s eyes dropped back down, knowing that was another battle he’d never win. So he said nothing and forked some mashed potatoes in his mouth. Naomi took it as her cue to change the subject.

“I saw you still have that awful trench coat of yours. I thought you were going to buy something nicer,” she said. “We did give you a gift card to Macy’s on your birthday. Pretty sure you could find something that suits you better.”

“I like my coat,” Castiel mumbled as he tried to stab the stray peas on his plate.

“I know you do, but it doesn’t look good. It’s no wonder you haven’t found yourself a girlfriend yet. Isn’t that right, Honey?” she added for Chuck’s benefit, who just hummed, his eyes never leaving the TV. “You see, that’s why I make sure Samandriel is always dressed nicely. He needs to learn that people will take you more seriously when you’re well put together. Frumpiness is not attractive, Castiel.”

She gave Castiel a pitying look – a lot like Hester had given him the day before – and leaned forward to pat his hand. “I’m only saying this because I care for you, you know that, right? It saddens me to know you have nobody to share your life. Even Samandriel already has a little girlfriend in his class. Isn’t that right, Honey?” she repeated, Chuck once more giving them a distracted hum back.

“You should just take care of your appearance… you know, better clothes, a nice shave, actually combing your hair once in a while. I know plenty of nice young ladies I could introduce you to. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”

“I’m only twenty-eight, Naomi… and… I have someone,” Castiel blurted out before he could stop himself. He looked up at Naomi and the doubtful look on her face only cemented Castiel’s need to shut her up. “I have someone that likes me just the way I am, frumpy suits and trench coat included.”

Naomi leaned back in her chair, a smirk on her face. “You do now, do you? Tell me Castiel, what’s the name of that very special and understanding lady?”

Electricity coursed through his veins as the words settled on his tongue. He lifted his chin, making sure to look her in the eye as he spoke. “Not a special lady, Naomi. A special guy. And his name is Dean Winchester.”


	6. Chapter 6

 

When Chuck tore his eyes away from the TV, it caused Castiel to swallow loudly. Dropping his eyes back on his plate, he awaited his fate.

“Isn’t that something, Honey?” Naomi asked her husband, her tone sickly sweet. “Now I hope you’ll bring this new friend of yours around next Sunday, won’t you?”

“Yeah, Cassie,” Castiel heard Chuck say. He looked at his father to see he’d already gone back to watching the hockey game. He then glanced at Naomi who still had that too wide of a smile on her face.

“I can’t wait to meet such an interesting fella. He must really like you if he can see past all the scruff. How lucky you are.”

Castiel swallowed the urge to tell Naomi off and managed to smile back at her.

“I really am,” he said. “And he loves the way I look. He thinks my coat is cool and he loves my hair when it’s all messed up.” It was Samandriel’s giggles that first, reminded him the kid was there and second, that prevented him from going deeper into a more shocking territory. “I think I’ll go home now,” he said as he got to his feet. “Whatever bug I had yesterday, I’m still not over it, I think. Better go before I infect everyone.”

“What a shame. Now you go and take care of yourself, you hear? Maybe call that friend of yours and have him take care of you.” Naomi came to hug him before changing her mind. “Let’s hug when you’re doing better, all right?” she said, taking a step back and making sure her son wouldn’t get too close either. “You’ll tell me when you bring your friend Dean around, right? Just so I can set up a place at the table for him.”

“I will,” Castiel said, glancing at his father now grousing at whatever play had just happened on the TV. “Bye, Dad… I’ll see you next Sunday?”

“Yeah, goodbye, Cassie. See you Sunday,” Chuck said without looking at him.

As he walked toward the bus stop, Castiel took out his phone. He thumbed the screen to find Hannah’s number. When she answered, he could hear her chewing on something. Right… dinner time.

“Sorry, Hannah, you’re having dinner. Want me to call back later?”

“No, don’t worry about it,” she said after swallowing. “What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be having dinner at your dad’s?”

“I left… wasn’t feeling so good.”

“Oh. Are you calling to tell me you’re not coming in tomorrow? You know Zachariah’s gonna go ballistic if you don’t, right?”

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just… I kinda just came out to my dad and Naomi and—”

“Oh, Lord… did they kick you out?” Hannah’s tone had turned sad. “Are you okay? Wanna come over?”

Castiel sighed. “No, they didn’t kick me out. I left… I mean… they didn’t even seem to care, honestly.”

“Well, maybe they didn’t understand you. How did you come out? Did you tell them ‘Dad, Naomi, I’m gay.’ or did you just do that thing you do and assume people understand what you’re telling them?”

If only to be able to scowl at her, Castiel would have preferred for his friend to be right in front of him at that moment. “There was no mistaking, Hannah. Told them I had a boyfriend… if that’s not clear enough… and Naomi was all like, ‘oh really?’. I’m pretty sure she didn’t believe me. Can you imagine that?”

“Well, in her defense, you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“I know, but she doesn’t know that. I mean, why would I lie about that?”

“I don’t know… why would you?”

Castiel sighed as he sat on the bench at the bus stop, making sure to be as far as possible from the old man already there waiting.

“Because they don’t think anyone could ever be interested in me. According to Naomi, I don’t look nice enough to ever have someone love me.”

“I’m sure your father doesn’t think that.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t see him trying to correct her. He just doesn’t care.”

“Why do you this, then? Why do you keep going there every Sunday?”

Castiel shrugs, only to remember she couldn’t see him. “He’s still my father, Hannah. He’s the only family I got left. I don’t want to be alone.”

“You wouldn’t be alone, Cas. I’m here, and…” Hannah paused and Castiel waited, not too eager to start arguing how there’s probably nothing in this world that would make him stop loving his father. He could never concede victory to Naomi, not on this.

“What I mean, is that I’ll always be there for you, Cas. As a friend or whatever else you’d want us to be.”

Castiel sighed again. He would have hoped this subject wouldn’t arise ever again. Especially not over the phone.

“Hannah—”

“I know, don’t worry. That’s not me asking you to be not gay with me. I’m just saying… you know… if we ever decided to be roommates for some reason. Or… anything, really. You’re my best friend, Cas.”

“And you’re mine, Hannah,” Castiel supplied, relieved. “Say? Have you had dinner? Oh, yeah, you were eating when I called.”

“Was only having a snack… I take it that you didn’t have time to eat much?”

“No, not really. We could go have dinner, maybe? I still owe you for breakfast.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Hannah said, chuckling. “But yeah, we could go for dinner. The usual Thai restaurant near my place?”

“Sounds great. See you there in about an hour?”

“Perfect, I’ll see you then.”

They hung up right in time, the bus just turning onto the street. Castiel went to sit in the back, scrolling through Lydia’s Facebook to see if there were new pictures of Dean as he made his way back. There weren’t, but Castiel didn’t mind so much going through all the other ones again.

He was browsing through hers and Dean’s engagement pictures when Castiel noticed a picture of Lydia with the man Castiel had believed to be Dean’s lover. He couldn’t help laughing when he read the caption: _Meet Sam Winchester, my future brother-in-law. Sorry ladies, he’s taken._

As quickly as he’d found himself amused, Castiel’s mood plummeted again. The tiny sliver of hope that Dean could have been bisexual, if not all the way gay, had just been swatted like a fly. He closed his eyes, tempted to call Hannah back and tell her he wasn’t hungry anymore. Except he knew she’d be royally pissed if he ditched her twice in one day.

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes again, resuming his scrolling through Lydia’s pictures. It didn’t take long for him to realize that each time Dean’s gorgeous face appeared on screen, his anxiety levels would drop some. Until he was back into a more serene state and could contemplate having a bit of food after all.

With his newfound serenity, a new thought formed in Castiel’s mind. Nothing he’d seen of Dean so far could have suggested that he wasn’t bisexual or in the closet. So, logically, Castiel could still try and seduce him. Not that he’d ever successfully seduced anyone, but he had never really tried either. And if someone was worth taking the risk for, Castiel decided it had to be Dean.

Castiel stopped going through Lydia’s pictures, putting his phone back in his pocket. He looked up to see he was almost at his destination. After a couple more stops, he stepped off the bus, only having to walk a minute to reach the restaurant. He went in to see Hannah already sitting at a table near the window and reading a book. He joined her, kissing her cheek before sitting down.

“Have you been here long?”

“Not really… got here about ten pages ago,” she said with a wink.

“What are you reading?” he asked, only to see her blush. “It’s not that _Fifty Shades_ nonsense, is it?”

“Come on, Cas. Even if I were to read that crap, I wouldn’t be doing it in public. No… I’m afraid it’s much worse than that,” she said as she showed him the cover. The book itself looked worn out, the front cover faded and cracked. Still, it was easy to distinguish the muscled – and bare-chested – blond man holding up a woman in a period dress that looked overly enamored with him… enamored or halfway dead, he couldn’t tell.

“ _The Pirate’s Lover_ … never heard of it.”

“I doubt you would have, it’s not very good,” Hannah admitted as she put the book back in her tote bag.

“Why do you read it, then?”

“Because it’s tacky and romantic, and there’s just enough sexy not to tick me off.”

Castiel chuckled as he gave the menu a quick glance. “What are you having?”

“I’m having the basil chicken… you?”

“The coconut chicken soup, I think. It’s been a while.”

Hannah nodded and hummed, closing her menu to put it aside.

“So, how are you doing?” she asked, sounding overly prudent. Castiel smiled at her.

“I’m doing good… real good, even. I was wondering… what are you doing tomorrow after work?”

She looked at him through squinted eyes. “Nothing much. Why?”

“Wanna come to _Macy’s_ with me?”

“What for?”

“I have a gift card and I need to find something I look good in.”


	7. Chapter 7

 

The Monday had been a long one, with four clients to take care of. All from the same family, too.

“This is such an awful thing to see,” Hannah said as she airbrushed the foundation base over the man on her table. “You did a nice job reconstructing parts of his face, though. The family will be happy.” She looked up, closing her mouth with a soft pop. “I mean… not happy, just… the Fishers will all look good enough to have open coffins.”

Castiel looked up at her, pausing his working on the youngest of the Fishers, twelve-year-old Francis. “I know what you mean. And I do agree that the family should be happy with our work. Such a tragedy… they deserve to see their loved ones looking good one last time. Especially this one,” he added as he went back to his work. “So young… the only time I really hate my job is when we have to work on kids. I mean, he hardly had time to live…”

Hannah turned off her airbrush to place it on the tray beside her. “Would you prefer that I take over? I could use the practice anyway.”

“No, I’m good. I’m mostly done anyway, but thanks.”

They didn’t speak much after that, only getting interrupted by Zachariah coming in to spew orders at them, mostly for things that had already been done. By three in the afternoon, nobody would have been able to tell that the family of four – a couple and their two children – had died in a massive car accident less than a week earlier.

“Still on for Macy’s?” Castiel asked as he put his apron on its hook.

“I am, but… don’t you usually go to thrift stores when you need something?”

“I told you this already, Hannah. I have a gift card. Might as well use it.”

“How much?”

“One hundred dollars, I think. Should be enough for a nice pair of pants and a shirt or something. Maybe nice underwear, too.”

Hannah, who had just opened the door to step outside the funeral home, stopped in her tracks, causing Castiel to bump into her. “What? What do you need nice underwear for?”

Instead of responding, Castiel gently guided her outside. The one thing he really didn’t want to do was talk about that stuff anywhere in the vicinity of his job. Mostly, in the vicinity of Mr. Adler’s ears. Once they were both on the sidewalk, Castiel linked his arm with hers so they could swiftly make their way to the bus stop.

There were two older women sitting on the bench already, chatting. Castiel hoped it would be enough to deter Hannah from asking her question again. It wasn’t, but at least she kept her voice low.

“So? What do you need nice underwear for? I mean… don’t you believe anything other than boxers are some sort of torture device?”

Castiel felt his cheeks redden. He turned away from his friend to look if the bus could be on its way to them already. When he turned back around, Hannah was looking at him with a single eyebrow arched high. “So?”

“You know I love my boxers… it’s just… I know it’s not really sexy.”

“You don’t have anybody to be sexy for, do you?”

“Not at the moment, no, I don’t. But… maybe if I wear sexy underwear, it’ll give me the confidence I need to go up to Dean and ask him out.”

Hannah sighed, letting her head fall, then looked up at him again. “Really? You’re still thinking about this guy?”

“I’ve only met him a couple of days ago.”

“You didn’t meet him, Cas.”

“Not yet, but I will. Hence the nice clothes and underwear.”

Hannah rolled her eyes but said nothing. Not until they were seated on the bus.

“I don’t think a hundred dollars is enough, Cas. Not if you wanna dress to impress.” She caught his eye. “I saw him, and I don’t think you have to try all that hard when it comes to clothes, dude. He wears jeans and flannel. Hardly a fashion icon.”

Castiel looked down at himself, brushing a hand over his navy slacks. It was one of the many pairs he’d found at _Goodwill_ and other thrift stores. He bought most of his clothes there and they usually looked nice enough, he found. He then flattened a hand over the lapel of his beloved trench coat. “Naomi says that I look frumpy. She and Dad gave me the gift card so I can buy another coat.”

“Gotta say, it has seen better days. For the first time ever, I kind of agree with her.”

“You know what this coat means to me, Hannah.” Castiel looked down again, mostly to hide the hurt in his gaze. “She knows what it means to me.”

When she spoke, Hannah took Castiel’s hand in hers. “I know, Cas… this was your grandfather’s coat, your mom’s father. Still… you don’t have to wear it, do you?”

“It’s the only thing of hers I have left,” he said, rueful. “Maybe I could… leave it home… sometimes.”

“If you love that coat, then wear it, Cas. I’m just saying it’s not the prettiest thing you own. Yet, at the same time… I think I’d miss it if you didn’t wear it anymore,” she added, bumping her shoulder to his and making him chuckle. She looked up to see they were almost at their stop already. “Come on, we’re almost there,” she said.

Five minutes later, they were in the men’s department at Macy’s, Castiel looking panicked at the choices in front of him. “The pants all look like the ones I have on right now,” he said in an aggravated tone.

“No, they don’t,” Hannah said as she went through a display of chinos. She picked up a pair of dark grey ones to show them to him. “Those are nice, don’t you think?”

“Are they my size?”

“I don’t know… what’s your size?”

Castiel shrugged as he took the pants from her. “They look tight.”

Hannah chuckled as she went through another rack, this one holding dress pants. “Only because you always go for bigger than you should. I swear you dress as if you’re fifty pounds heavier than you really are.”

“I don’t,” he mumbled, even though he knew he did do that. Mostly because he hated the feeling of clothes clinging to his skin… that or the fact that tighter clothes would mean that people would see his true form. And he hated that idea. “Clothes don’t have to be tight to be nice, you know.”

“Not tight, Cas. Fitted. Not the same thing.” As she spoke, she dropped about five pairs of pants in his arms. With the ones he was already holding, that meant three different styles in two different sizes. “Now let’s go look at the shirts.”

Half an hour later, Castiel was in a tiny fitting room trying on the third style of pants, the dress pants in black. He was about to drop the smaller size to try on the bigger one when Hannah knocked on the door.

“Come on, Cas! I need to see.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Yeah, you said the same thing about the chinos and jeans and they fit you perfectly.”

“I didn’t like the fabric.”

“Yeah, well the dress pants should be right up your alley. Did you try ’em on?”

Castiel sighed and opened the door. “See?” he said when he stepped out. “Those are much too tight. And I’m pretty sure the bigger ones will be too. Maybe if I got a couple of sizes bigger, I could—”

“No,” Hannah said as she pushed another item at him. “Those pants look amazing on you, but you’re right, they may be a little tight. Try the other ones, then put on the cobalt shirt and this thing over it.”

Castiel looked down at the hanger and what it held. “A vest? I don’t wanna buy a three-piece suit, Hannah.”

“I know that. You don’t need a jacket with this look. You put on the pants, the shirt, then this vest over it and you’ll look amazing. Believe me, I know.”

He looked at the price tag and shook his head. “That outfit you’re creating will end up costing twice what’s on that gift card, Hannah. I can’t afford it.”

“Come on, Cas. I know you can splurge a bit, you never buy anything.”

“You know why I don’t. If I ever want to buy a house, I have to save up. I can’t go and spend every penny I make on frivolous things like…” He waved the vest at her. “Clothes!”

“You’re the one who wanted to come here, Cas. I’m only trying to help.” Hannah tilted her head, her gaze inquisitive on him. “And I told you this before… I got a bit of money saved up, we could buy a place together if you want.”

Castiel visibly flinched as he felt the heat bloom in his cheeks. He pressed his lips together and turned to face the mirror again as he slid the vest on.

“You know I’m a loner, Hannah,” he said, forcing himself to catch his friend’s eyes in the mirror. “And you also know that I’m gay. If I buy a home with anyone, it’ll be with my boyfriend or husband.”

Hannah turned Castiel around to button his vest as she spoke. “I’m not asking you to marry me, Cas. Friends can live together… there doesn’t have to be any other benefit than saving a bit of cash.” Her tone may have been casual, Castiel knew better; it wasn’t the first time they had that conversation. “Besides, I told you before; I’m ace, I’m not looking for anything sexual. Not ever!”

Turning back around, Castiel caught Hannah’s eyes in the mirror again. “Well, I am, Hannah. I am looking for something sexual. With a man.”


	8. Chapter 8

 

After getting back home and warming up a can of chicken noodle soup, Castiel took the Macy’s bags to empty them on his bed. His heart sped up at the memory of the cashier announcing the total of his purchase had come up to two hundred and fifty-three dollars. He’d had to swallow the lump in his throat as he took out his debit card along with the gift one.

Hannah had stayed with him, rubbing a calming hand in his back as he waited for the transaction to go through. Not that it wouldn’t, he knew he had enough money, but he couldn’t help the anxiety from bubbling up anyway. The last time he’d spent this much money in one sitting had been… never.

“That stuff you bought, it’s a real classic look, Cas,” Hannah had told him, encouraging. “You’ll be able to wear it all for years to come.”

And, okay, that thought had been a comforting one. Which kind of explained how he didn’t go into full panic attack mode right there in the store. Yet, the whole thing proved to have been stressful enough for Castiel to decline Hannah’s invitation for dinner, arguing he wasn’t hungry.

It hadn’t been a lie, not really. He was only having soup because otherwise, he would be waking up hungry in the middle of the night. For now, he couldn’t look away from the clothes on the bed. He displayed each element next to the other as he tried to get used to the sight of them.

The only missing piece of clothing was underwear. Not only had he found the store’s selection to be lacking, but he also hadn’t felt all that comfortable buying them with Hannah next to him. He’d suspected for a long time she’d harvested romantic feelings for him, not that he’d ever ask her to confirm it. She may have told him more than once that she was asexual, she had also said she had romantic urges and Castiel knew he could never be comfortable in that role.

Eager to try on his new clothes again, Castiel’s thoughts went back to his dream of buying his own home as he disrobed. This time, Dean added himself to the fantasy. The house wouldn’t need to be all that big, mostly because they wouldn’t need more than one bedroom. They would also have a nice backyard where Castiel could grow his own vegetables. He smiled as he slid the pants up, trying to ignore how he thought the fabric still clung a bit too tightly over his thighs.

He zipped up the fly, then grabbed the blue shirt. As he buttoned it, he resumed his daydreaming, the little house also having a garage where Dean could work on whatever mechanical stuff he’d feel like working on. He also thought how maybe the house should be isolated enough so they wouldn’t have to worry about making too much noise when they made love. Because they would… a whole lot.

Castiel put on the vest, his cheeks red from his thoughts having diverted to sexier ones. He sucked in a breath when he felt his dick stir in the new pants. This time, when he took his clothes off, he did it quickly and dropped everything back on the bed before going into the bathroom.

He sighed at the sight of the bath, once more cursing the absence of shower facilities. He put the plug in and turned on the water, waiting a bit before entering the clawfoot tub. He leaned back on the curved enamel and closed his eyes, calling back his memories of Dean as he teased himself by trailing his fingers over his chest, flicking and pinching his nipples before slowly sending his hand down.

After turning off the water, Castiel frowned when the last drops echoed in the now silent room. He debated with the idea of getting out to turn the radio on, but it was too warm and nice in there. He decided against it, promising himself to keep quiet while he fucked himself on his favorite toy.

His dick jumped at the promise of what was to come. He sat up to open the sink vanity and grabbed the dildo and lube, already half hard when he pushed a first lubed finger passed his puckered rim. Castiel sighed as he opened himself up, eyes green like shards of 7up bottles dancing inside his eyelids.

“Dean…” he said, the name ending in a quiet moan as he pushed a second finger next to the first one. The echo sent him back his pleasure noises, soon drowning in the sluicing of the water as he fucked himself on his fingers. He found his prostate, biting at his lower lip to prevent himself from crying out.

He had to stop when a splash of water flew up his nose and mouth. He coughed, sliding the fingers out of his ass. It was just as well, seeing as he had something even better waiting for him. He licked his lips as he doused the realistic toy in the slick goo. He had filled up the bath a bit too much so he got on his knees to lean against the edge of the tub, away from the tap.

He closed his eyes again as he placed the tip against his hole. He waited, teasing himself by rubbing it in his cleft until he couldn’t wait anymore. His forehead resting against the tiles, he pushed the silicone dick in, gasping at the burn from going too fast. Then he waited again, getting used to the girth of it.

He almost cried out when he started pumping the toy in his ass, catching onto his prostate almost on every thrust. His eyes closed, he imagined it was Dean that was fucking him instead. Soon, he had to touch himself, his dick hanging heavy between his legs. He let go of the tub to start jerking himself off, having to drop his forehead on the edge of the tub to help have a semblance of stability.

“Oh, shit… fuck… Dean!” he cried out when he came. His movements eased up as he rode the wave of his orgasm, soon pulling the dildo out. He let it fall into the bath, taking a second to brace himself before leaning back to take it out and drop it in the sink… he’d wash it later. He stayed in while the water drained, then rinsed the bathtub to fill it up again.

He didn’t put that much water this time, only enough to bathe. Ten minutes later, he was lying on his bed in his boxers, again with his laptop on his lap. This time, Castiel didn’t look for Dean, lurking around his favorite realty website instead to look at the houses for sale. He may have had a bit of money saved up, he still felt he didn’t have enough. Mostly, he had yet to find the perfect house.

To be honest, he had found the perfect house a couple of years prior. Well, at the time, it seemed perfect. He just hadn’t dared to try buying it alone, thinking how it would somehow have made him into some kind of failure. A romantic failure, anyway.

It was enough for his thoughts to migrate back to his father and Naomi, and how they’d been insisting that he’d find a wife and have kids already. That whole speech had been delivered along with Castiel’s twenty-fifth birthday gift, a check for ten thousand dollars Chuck had put in a card.

“Your father has been putting this money aside for you since you were born. Some of your mother’s inheritance money is in there, too. It’s not much, but it should help you out when you’re ready to start a family.” Naomi had smiled, in that all too sweet way she always did. “You’re a man, now. Time to settle down, don’t you think? How is that going? Anyone special in your life yet?”

“You know I don’t have a girlfriend, Naomi. I’m not—I work a lot.”

Like anytime he’d speak of his work, Naomi’s lips had pursed in disgust. “Yes. Speaking of that job of yours… it may be the reason you don’t have a nice lady in your life. I mean, knowing that my husband spends his days with dead people? I don’t think I could ever let him touch me. Ain’t that right, Honey?”

And, as always, Chuck had only hummed, never once disagreeing with his girlfriend. Even when she spewed all her uneducated nonsense at Castiel.

“You need to find yourself a real job, Castiel. A respectful job where you get to interact with living people.”

“I do, Naomi. Who do you think comes to see the deceased once I’ve made them look good? It’s the living, it’s for them that I do this.”

She had huffed, rolling her eyes. “You know what I mean, Sweetheart. Please… think about it, would you? Your obsession with death is… unbecoming.”

Castiel shivered, shaking himself from the memory. From the moment he’d met his father’s girlfriend, she’d made sure to tell him how any choice he’d ever made was the wrong one. Something he wouldn’t have cared about it if his father had ever bothered disagreeing with her.

He never did.


	9. Chapter 9

 

“What you’re asking me is impossible, Castiel.”

Sitting in Mr. Adler’s office, Castiel tilted his head, unflinching.

“You know I haven’t taken a day of vacation in two years, Sir. I think I’m well overdue.”

Zachariah lifted his chin, his mouth in a bitter pout. “That can’t be right, Castiel. You take time off all the time. You took time off just last weekend.”

Castiel leaned forward, making sure to look his boss in the eye. “I left only a couple hours earlier, then came in the next day… extra time you won’t be paying me for, might I add.”

“I told you before, and I’m telling you again, Castiel. If you need to be working overtime, it’s because you haven’t been doing your job properly.” Mr. Adler leaned over his desk, pointing a finger at him. “You take too much time on these people. It’s your own fault if you have to put in more hours. I certainly won’t be paying for them.” He leaned back, looking smug. “And I won’t let you go on vacation either. It’s winter now, we’re nearing the Holidays. Old people are gonna start dropping like flies. You know this as well as I do.”

When Castiel got to his feet to slam his hands on the desk, he couldn’t help feeling a little giddy when he noticed Zachariah flinching. It gave him the courage he needed to convey how he could not accept being rebuffed.

“I need to take some time off, Zach! I need four weeks, starting tomorrow.”

“But, Castiel—I have nobody to replace you.”

“Yes, you do. Hannah is very capable, and also, I deserve this. If you don’t approve my request, I’ll just leave. And I might have a chat with that lawyer friend of mine.” Not that Castiel had a lawyer friend, but his boss certainly didn’t know that.

Zachariah’s eyes widened. “You’re bluffing, Castiel. What do you want? More money? Is that what this is about?”

“Seeing as you tend to be on the cheap side, salary-wise, I could say that’s what I’m after, yes. Luckily for you, I’m not. All I want is the time off I’m asking for.”

The coloring in Mr. Adler’s face had become a worrying shade of red. He sniffed in disdain before letting out a frustrated sigh. “Very well, I’ll give you some time off, but four weeks is too much. Two weeks.”

Castiel leaned forward again, his gaze hard on his boss. “Three weeks.”

Lifting his chin in defiance, Mr. Adler kept his gaze on his employee. And when he spoke, it was with his lips curled in a snarling manner. “You finish the week, then you get three. How does that sound?”

Castiel’s demeanor did a one-eighty, leaning back to smile at his boss and offer his hand to shake. “That’s a deal! Thank you, Mr. Adler.”

Leaving his bemused boss to sit alone in his office, Castiel went back downstairs to join Hannah in the prep room. When he entered, she looked up from her client to quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Hey, Cas. Are you okay? Why are you late? You’re never late,” she said, almost scolding him.

“Had to talk to Mr. Adler,” he answered, not letting her tone rattle him. “Asked for some vacation time and he agreed.”

“He did?” Hannah now sounded skeptical, and Castiel couldn’t certainly blame her. “Did you sell your soul to the devil or something?”

“Didn’t have to. Guess I found enough compelling arguments.” After putting his apron on, he came to stand next to the body Hannah had been working on. “There’s a little patch here,” he said, pointing at a paler spot on the woman’s neck.”

Hannah huffed, picking up her airbrush again. “I know… I’m not done,” she said, powering the tool again. “So? When do you leave?” she asked as she worked.

“I’ll be off for three weeks starting next Monday.”

“Three weeks?” Hannah said, a squeak in her voice. “You mean I’ll be alone here for three weeks? What if we get a reconstruction job? You know I’m not all that good at that.”

“You’re fine, Hannah. You’ll do a great job.”

She shook her head, putting the airbrush down again. “You know Zachariah will never think so. It’s going to be a nightmare, Cas. How can you do this to me?”

Still on the confident streak he’d been on since waking up that morning, Castiel didn’t let Hannah’s insecurities get to him. He had enough of his own. “I tell you all the time, Hannah, you’re good at what you do. Zach only pounces on you because you let him. Stand your ground and he’ll stop harassing you.”

She was pouting now. “It’s easy for you to say… he loves you.”

It was enough to make Castiel throw his head back in laughter. “Are you kidding me? Hannah, I was you before you got to be me. I worked as an assistant before… would probably still be if Mr. Cain hadn’t gone into retirement two years ago. And Zachariah would still be belittling my work as he does yours. And he’ll probably do so until I leave. If you let him, that is.”

Hannah shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “I can’t do this… I can’t wait for you to retire to have my work appreciated.”

“Then say something about it.”

“Or we could leave,” she said in a hush, keeping an eye on the door. “You and me, we could find another job. Leave this douche behind and—”

“I won’t stay here forever, but I’m not ready to leave just yet,” Castiel said, placating. “But nothing is stopping you from pursuing other employment, Hannah.” He made sure to look her in the eye and winked. “Maybe just wait until I’ve come back?”

“Don’t worry,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I won’t be messing up your vacation plans… speaking of that, where are you going?”

“Nowhere, I’m staying in town.”

Hannah paused her work once more. “You are? What’s the point of being on vacation, then? I mean, what are you gonna be doing all day?”

“I told you. I want to seduce Dean.”

“And you need a three weeks vacation to do that?”

“No, silly. I just want to be able to spend as much time with him as possible when we get together. Plus, it’s the Holidays soon, he’s bound to have some time off.”

Hannah sighed as she put back her contouring brush back on the tray. She then came to stand in Castiel’s space, cradling his face in her hands. “Cas… Dean is most probably one hundred percent hetero. You know this, right?”

“There’s no proof of that.”

“There’s more proof than none. You know I’m right. Not only are you setting yourself up for heartbreak, but there’s also a big chance that you’ll get your ass kicked.”

Castiel shook his head. “He wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You! Don’t! Know! Him!” Hannah spat, tempted to slap him out of it. She didn’t but still pressed her hands harder on his face. “I’m starting to be worried about you, Cas. Like… mental breakdown worried.”

Smiling, Castiel took Hannah’s hands off his face to hold them. “You don’t need to worry, Hannah. I’m not delusional, I know there’s a big chance he’s totally straight. I mean, I don’t think he’d beat me up over it, but you’re right, I don’t know much about him. Which is why I need your help.”

Scowling, Hannah took her hands back to cross her arms over her chest. “You need my help? How in the hell do you think I can help?”

“I have a plan, but I can’t execute it myself. I need a ‘wingman’, or rather a ‘wingwoman’ in this case.”

“Go on…”

“It involves a bit of… hmm… surveillance.”

She rolled her eyes. “You mean stalking?”

“If you insist, but only until I ‘make contact’.”

“And how are you going to do this? And, I mean, why do you need me for making contact? You just have to go up to the guy and say hi.” She went back to her working spot to resume the makeup on Mrs. Taylor. “You don’t need me for that.”

“You know me, Hannah… do you really think I can just go up to the guy and say hi?” he said, to which Hannah only gave an understanding nod. “No… what I need you to do is to—”

“Is Mrs. Taylor ready?” Mr. Adler barked as he stomped into the room, effectively interrupting Castiel. “We have two bodies coming in soon and they need to be done today.”

“I’m almost done,” Hannah said, her tone less assured that it was only a second ago. “She doesn’t need that much makeup, she hardly ever wore any when she lived.”

Their boss came to stand closer to look over Hannah’s work. “You’re gonna have to be faster than this, otherwise you’ll never be able to compensate for Castiel’s work while he’s out on vacation. He told you, right? That he’ll be off for three weeks?”

“He did tell me, but I’m not worried, Mr. Adler. And you shouldn’t be either,” Hannah said, her voice trembling even though she tried to appear confident. “Everything’s gonna be okay, you’ll see.”

“Yeah… I guess we’ll see about that.”


	10. Chapter 10

Two days later, Castiel pulled a reluctant Hannah into _Harvelle’s_ , hoping to go forth with the plan he had devised.

“That place looks dingy as hell, Cas,” she had complained before entering. Once inside, she didn’t really change her mind, letting Castiel choose a table for them to sit at.

“Hey, you! Didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

Castiel looked up to see the same blond waitress he’d met before. “Hello, Jo. Yes, I kind of liked it, so I decided to come back.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear this. Same thing as last time? Red wine, right?” she asked, making Castiel chuckle.

“You remember?”

“We don’t get that many folks around here that order wine, so yeah.” She turned to Hannah, still smiling. “Welcome to _Harvelle’s_ … my name’s Jo,” she said. “Are you like this guy? Are you into red wine?”

“Do you have white?”

“Of course,” Jo confirmed. “One red, one white… coming right up.”

“She’s nice,” Hannah said as she watched Jo walking away, then looked around the bar. “There’s hardly anybody here, Cas. How do you know your guy will even be here?”

Castiel shrugged, hoping the dimness of the room was enough to hide the heat in his cheeks. “I may or may not have found a way to know he’d be here.”

“And how did you do that?”

Jo was already back with their drinks, preventing Castiel from answering.

“Two wines, one red, one white,” she said as she put the glasses down. “So, how do you guys wanna do this? You pay together? Separately? Or would you like a tab, maybe?”

“A tab would be nice, and it’s all on me. And I promise I have enough for a nice tip this time.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jo answered with a wink before walking away.

Castiel looked back at Hannah who was giving him a pointed look, obviously waiting for his answer. He made a point of taking a couple of sips before talking, making sure to speak as low as possible. “His brother’s Facebook account isn’t set to private. That how I know they made plans to be here tonight.”

Hannah rolled her eyes and shook her head, before taking a sip of wine. She made a face, clearly not impressed by the quality of her drink. “Who makes plans on Facebook? Don’t they text or call like normal people?”

Castiel shrugged again. “Maybe they do that too, I don’t know. Anyway, this is great for me, I get to know what’s going on. Now… you remember the plan, right?”

“I do, but as I said, I’m not sure I can do this. I mean, aren’t pickpockets super skilled and stuff? Like magicians?”

“If the last time they came here is anything to go by, you won’t need to be all that skilled to grab Dean’s wallet, Hannah. He’ll be way too drunk to notice.”

“So that’s what you’re looking for in a man, Cas? Some kind of low life who’ll go out to drink himself silly? And on a work day, no less!”

“He’s unhappy in his relationship, Hannah. That’s why he drinks, I’m sure.”

Hannah took a huge gulp of her wine this time, grimacing as she swallowed. “Again, you can’t know that, not that it makes it any better. You can’t know what’s going on in someone’s life by perving on them through their living room window.”

“Every time I’ve seen him, he looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders, Hannah. If he was happy, he wouldn’t be looking so—”

“Shhh! He’s here,” Hannah said in a hiss, patting his forearm. “That’s his brother? Jesus… he’s tall!”

Castiel waited for the men to appear in his peripheral to glance at them. Like the other time they were there, they went to sit at the bar after hugging the bartender. “He is… he’s a bit too tall, in my opinion. Dean, on the other hand, is just the right height.”

Hannah huffed, shaking her head. “The guy would have an arm growing out of his forehead that you’d think it’s the prettiest thing ever.”

He didn’t respond, not really paying attention to her anymore. All he knew was that his heart was going a thousand miles an hour and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dean’s broad shoulders. Until Hannah moved chairs to sit between him and the object of his desire.

“You know what I think you should do?”

Castiel shook his head, tempted to lean to the side to look at Dean some more.

“I think you should go and say hi.”

“No, thank you.”

Hannah rolled her eyes, chugging down her drink before clinking her empty glass with his. “Go to the bar and order us some more drinks. You know, squeeze in right next to him… apologize to be crowding his space. I think you should at least look at him in the eye, see if he’d be receptive at all.”

“And what if he’s not?”

“Then you’ll know!” She smirked, patting his cheek as she spoke. “Come on, you know you wanna do it. You gotta put those beautiful baby blues you got to good use, Cas.”

Taking a deep breath, Castiel nodded then got on his feet. He chugged his wine before making his way to the bar, aiming to go sit on the stool next to Dean instead of trying to squeeze in between him and his brother. He sat and leaned forward, holding a finger up to get the barmaid’s attention. It didn’t help, seeing she had her back turned to him as she chatted to a man in a trucker cap.

 

 

“Yo! Ellen! Think someone’s ready to order,” Castiel heard next to him. He turned to see Dean looking at him, a blinding smile on his face. “You gotta make some noise, dude, or else she won’t know you’re there.”

Castiel’s mind went blank as he stared at Dean, his mouth agape. He had a mind to close it with a pop, swallowing as he prepared to respond. Not that he knew what to say.

“Dude! Are you trying to stiff me on my tips or something?”

Castiel turned to see Jo standing behind him. “I—no—I—I didn’t want to disturb you…” He glanced back at Dean, starting to panic now.

“Jo, stop scaring the clientele, would you?” another voice said. Castiel turned again to see the barmaid eyeing him. “What is it you want, handsome?”

“Hmm… two—two glasses of wine… one red, one white,” he managed to say, glancing at Dean to see him quirk an eyebrow at the order.

“Wine?” he asked Ellen. “You got that here? Since when?”

“We’ve always had wine, Dean. We don’t sell much of it, but we still hold some.”

Castiel was startled when Jo wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I was only kidding, You know that, right?” she said, smiling. “You can go back to sit with your girlfriend, I’ll bring you your order.”

“We’re not—she’s my friend,” Castiel said in a stammer, relieved to see Dean wasn’t paying attention to them anymore.

Jo smiled, gently jamming her elbow in his side. “If my opinion’s worth anything, I’m pretty sure she wouldn’t mind being your girlfriend… just sayin’.”

“Thank you, Jo,” he said, able to smile again. “I’ll go back to our table, then,” he said, the hair on his arm standing when it brushed against Dean as he got off his seat. He bit the inside of his cheeks as he went back to sit with Hannah.

“So?” she asked, before batting a hand at him. “Forget it, I know that look. He’s a nice guy, ain’t he?”

Castiel could only nod, rubbing at his itching eyes. “And his voice… it’s so deep, so rich.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it… he’s perfect.”

Jo brought their drinks a second later, taking back the empty glasses back with her.

They had time to drink four glasses each – Jo suggesting they should just buy bottles next time – while Dean drank too many beers and glasses of amber liquor for Castiel to count. This time, his brother seemed to be pacing himself, eventually leaving Dean to stay and drink alone.

At that point, both Castiel and Hannah had switched to mineral water, waiting for the opportune time to strike. Said time came a little after midnight. When Dean started bidding his goodbyes, Castiel gave Hannah a silent nod before going to pay their tab. He kept an eye on the door as Dean staggered toward it.

Castiel had trouble keeping a straight face when a falsely drunk Hannah bumped into Dean, almost hard enough to make them both tumble to the floor. For a couple of seconds, they looked like they were dancing, trying not to fall by holding onto each other.

“I’m so sorry!” Hannah eventually said, ambling backward to let herself fall on a chair.

“No… no… m’sorry… you ’kay?” Dean asked, his speech slurred. “You hurt?”

“No, I’m okay. Just waitin’ for my friend,” she said, pointing to Castiel who gave the two a tight smile, making sure not to stare too much.

“Are you gonna be okay, Dean, Sweetie?” Ellen called out as she gave Castiel his change. “Do you want Jo to help you home?”

“Nah! I’m good, ’len. Thanks!” Dean turned around to face the door. “Bye!” he said, Ellen tutting as she watched him leave.

“This boy will be the death of me,” she said to no one in particular.

“So you know him?” Castiel asked, innocently enough.

“He works for my husband, and I’ve known the kid forever. He and his brother, they’re like my own,” she said before walking away. “Hope to see you again soon,” she threw over her shoulder.

“Yeah… probably,” Castiel said, going back to Hannah. “So? You got it?” he asked in her ear as he wrapped an arm around her waist to lead her outside.

“Got it,” she confirmed, giving Castiel the wallet she’d taken from Dean. “Now what?”

“Time for step number two!”


	11. Chapter 11

 

Castiel had been too tired to go for step number two, so he waited until the next morning. The late night – and four glasses of wine – meant he woke up with a massive headache at six the next morning. He took a quick bath while the percolator worked its magic, waiting to be sitting down with a cup of coffee to finally go through Dean’s wallet.

At first, he panicked when he found no identifications other than Dean’s driver’s license. He put it aside, drinking a bit more coffee and waiting for his brain to be fully functional before going through it again. That was when he found it, tucked in between a couple of old pictures; an ID card with Dean’s name and phone number.

He let out a relieved breath. If Dean’s number hadn’t been in there, he would have had to bring back the wallet to _Harvelle’s_ , which would have meant that Hannah did all of this for nothing. Elated, Castiel grabbed his phone, powering it up to go in his phone app. It didn’t matter that he had thought this was the best plan ever, he was now unsure he could go through it.

He put the phone back, his heart thumping in his chest. He looked up at the clock on the wall to see it was a little after seven already. He couldn’t leave any later than seven thirty if he didn’t want to be late. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find the courage that had inhabited him the day before. If it could be called that.

Taking his phone back, Castiel pushed aside the little voice telling him he’d be making a fool of himself and thumbed Dean’s number in. He put the device on speaker, somehow thinking putting it against his ear would be too intimate. The phone rang and with each ring, Castiel’s heart deflated a bit more. Until he heard Dean’s magnificent voice again.

“Hey, this is Dean. If you don’t leave a message, don’t expect a callback.”

Castiel swallowed, the saliva going down the wrong pipe and making him cough. He was still coughing when there was a beep, signifying him to leave a message.

“Erm—huh—hi—my name—I’m Castiel… I found your wallet on the sidewalk last night. Found your number in it. Just call me back so I can give it back to you.”

When Castiel hung up, he was short of breath, once more on the brink of a panic attack. He closed his eyes, bracing himself with both hands splayed wide on the table. He tried to take deep breaths, but he started trembling, electing to go lie down on his bed instead until it passed.

He didn’t check the time as he moved to his bed, knowing it wouldn’t help. He lied down, closing his eyes and placing both hands on his abdomen. He breathed, working to keep his mind as blank as possible, trying to forget all about Dean, calling him, taking time off work. Eventually, his heart decelerated and his breathing eased out. He still took a minute to relax before sitting up, his gaze falling back onto the clock on the wall.

“Shit!” he said under his breath when he saw it was already seven forty-five. He got to his feet and grabbed his coat to rush out of the apartment, only to come back a minute later to grab his phone and Dean’s wallet, his own already in his coat pocket.

He walked in the funeral home twenty minutes later, hoping Mr. Adler wouldn’t have noticed he wasn’t in yet. He went to the basement, glad to see nobody else was there. He had just put on his apron when Zachariah came in through the back, pushing in a mortuary tray with a client ready for prepping.

“Where the hell were you, Castiel?” Mr. Adler said roughly. “I was to start preparing the body myself. Had I known you’d be this irresponsible, I wouldn’t have—”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Adler… I had a rough morning and ran late,” Castiel said, pain still pulsing at his temples. “Isn’t Hannah here?”

“No, she called earlier to say she’d be late as well. Apparently, she too had a rough morning.” As he spoke, Zachariah came to stand closer, towering at least a head over him, which had stopped being intimidating to Cas years ago. “Are you two sleeping together, Castiel? You know what I think about my employees getting into relationships, don’t you?”

Castiel smirked. “I know… and you don’t need to worry about that, Mr. Adler, our relationship will never be anything but a friendship.”

“Being too friendly with the staff is not something you should be doing either, Castiel. You’re her immediate superior, act like it.”

Giving his boss a curt nod, Castiel maneuvered the gurney to his working spot. Zachariah didn’t say another word as he disappeared where he had come from, leaving Castiel to start working on their client. He took the envelope with the paperwork to find a picture of the deceased.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lang,” he said, putting the envelope aside. “I’m sorry for your demise. Don’t you worry, okay? I’ll be taking real good care of you.” He brushed a hand in the man’s thinned hair as he spoke, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

The people he got to work on may have been dead, he still felt the need to be as gentle as possible. Not that he thought they were still in there – god, did he hope they weren’t, especially after going through the embalming process – but he still believed everyone deserved their death to be treated in the most respectful manner.

His old mentor, Mr. Cain, had been adamant about that. He’d been more of a religious man, saying a prayer before he started working on anyone, but he also treated everyone with the same amount of respect. Something Castiel had taken in stride and made sure to pass on to Hannah when he took Mr. Cain’s job and she was hired as his assistant.

Castiel had just started airbrushing the foundation on Mr. Lang’s face when Hannah came in, sporting huge sunglasses. She took her apron and came to stand next to the tray as she put it on.

“Good morning, Hannah,” Castiel said in a low voice, thinking she too might be plagued with a headache.

“I hate you,” she responded, taking her sunglasses off to glare at him through squinted eyes. “I’m never listening to your stupid ideas ever again,” she added as she put the glasses on her work tray. She took the envelope to look through it.

“Good morning, Mr. Lang,” she then said, much more amicably. “It’s very nice to meet you, Sir. Sorry for your demise,” she said, aping Castiel’s greeting almost word for word. “Don’t you worry about Castiel, he’s great with dead people. With the living, though? Not so much.”

“You didn’t have to drink as much, Hannah,” Castiel countered, never looking away from his work.

“What else did you want me to do, Cas? We were in a bar, you made me stay there for hours… had to drink.”

“Could have ordered sparkling water or even coffee.” Castiel put the airbrush aside to look at her. “Nevertheless, I’m sorry you’re feeling so bad this morning. If it helps any, I’m not feeling so good myself. I was even late by five minutes.”

“You were? Did Mr. Adler catch you?”

“He did… scolded me and everything.”

For the first time since her arrival, a small smile appeared on Hannah’s face. “I guess that makes me feel a bit better, yes.” She looked at the percolator on the counter, annoyed to see it hadn’t been started up. “Coffee would have made me feel much better, but you know…”

Castiel chuckled, making a beeline for the percolator. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Let me start it up.”

Five minutes later, Castiel was back to work on Mr. Lang while the coffee was brewing, Hannah sitting on the stool a bit removed from the work area.

“So… did it work?” she asked after some time.

“Did what work?”

“Stealing the guy’s wallet? No wonder I’m hungover this morning, I had to be drunk to think this was a good idea.”

Feeling the tip of his ears grow warm, Castiel shrugged. “Found his number in it, as I’d hoped. He didn’t answer so I left a message.” He looked up, a crooked smile on his face. “You agreed to this plan before we even got there, so I don’t think you can blame it on the wine.”

“Shut up,” Hannah replied without much heat. “I’m impressed you even called, I won’t lie. How did that go?”

“Panic attack… which is why I was late.”

“Oh… wonder how it’s gonna go when you actually get to talk to the guy.”

As luck would have it, Castiel’s phone started ringing at that very moment. He looked up to see Hannah giving him a similar look of surprise. He swallowed while Hannah went to get the phone from his coat pocket to bring it to him.

“Maybe I should let it go to voicemail.”

“If you don’t answer, I will, Castiel. I swear I will.”

Castiel took the phone and took a deep breath before swiping the answer icon. “Yes?”

“Hi, uh… my name’s Dean Winchester. You found my wallet?”

“I did…”

“That’s awesome, man… where are you? Can I come and get it?”

“Now? I can’t. I’m at work… I mean, I don’t have it with me.” Castiel ignored Hannah squinting at him. “Do you know _Benny’s_ , on Third?”

“Best burgers in town. Is that where you work? Maybe I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t, but we could meet there? I finish here at five, could we meet at _Benny’s_ around five thirty?”

“Yeah, okay… I guess. What’s your name again?”

“My name is Castiel. I’ll see you later, Dean.”


	12. Chapter 12

 

Of course, what Dean couldn’t have known was that Castiel’s shift actually ended at four. Which gave him more than enough time to go back home to take a shower and change into his new clothes. He hadn’t gone back to buy some nice underwear yet, but it didn’t matter. Today wasn’t about seducing Dean, it was about introducing himself so he could ask him on a proper date.

As usual, anxiety reared its ugly head as he was about to leave the apartment. He went to the kitchen cabinet where he kept the stronger alcohol to pour himself a bit of rum. He grimaced as he swallowed it all before pouring himself another serving. That wasn’t something he did often, only when he needed a quick fix.

And, once more, it worked wonders. When he sat in a booth at _Benny’s_ fifteen minutes later, he felt calmer than he’d been in days. He knew it wouldn’t last, but he knew it would be enough to carry on with his plan.

“Hello, Castiel… the usual to go?”

Castiel looked up at Benny’s daughter, Elizabeth, and smiled.

“Hello, Elizabeth… I’ll have the same, but can you double the order? And it’s to eat here.”

The young waitress squinted at him. “You mean, you want two burgers and twice the fries? Can you really eat that much?”

Castiel chuckled, shaking his head. “No. I mean, two separate orders. I’m meeting someone here.”

A delighted smile appeared on Elizabeth’s face. “You’re on a date, aren’t you? I thought you looked extra nice today! Who’s the lucky lady?” she asked, looking up to glance at the door as if expecting Castiel’s date to walk through.

“It’s not a date,” Castiel said when she turned her attention back on him. “I found this guy’s wallet and I’m here to give it back to him.”

“Oh, I see… well, I’ll put in the order with Dad, then. Or should I wait for the guy to get here?”

“You can order now. And bring it up when it’s ready.” He looked at his watch. “He should be here soon anyway, so the quicker the food is served, the better.”

Elizabeth looked intrigued by his response but didn’t argue. She went away, leaving Castiel with crippling doubts about what he’d just done. What if Dean didn’t like bacon cheeseburgers? Or what if he wasn’t hungry? What if he found it creepy as hell that Castiel ordered food for him?

As he started getting anxious again, he wished he had consumed a bit more of the rum before leaving home. He closed his eyes to take deep breaths, imagining a balloon inflating and deflating as he did, both hands flat on his stomach. Soon, the pop music coming through the speakers faded out, replaced by Castiel’s own breathing.

“You Castiel?”

Dean’s voice next to him startled Castiel, his eyes flying open. He looked up to see the man of his dreams standing there, wearing the same blue coveralls he’d worn the first time he’d seen him. That, and a friendly smile.

“Yes… I’m Castiel. Dean Winchester?” he asked, although he very well knew the answer to that. He got to his feet to properly shake hands with the man. “Castiel Shurley. Nice to meet you, Dean,” he managed to say, mentally congratulating himself to have sounded like a normal human being. “Please, sit,” he said, sitting back down.

Dean seemed to hesitate, but only for a second, soon taking a place on the other side of the table. He tilted his head, looking at him through squinted eyes. “Say… don’t I know you from somewhere?”

Castiel had debated what to say if Dean were to ask that very question. “I was at _Harvelle’s_ last night, I think I saw you there… I did find your wallet on the sidewalk near the bar.”

“Huh… yeah, that makes sense,” Dean said, scratching at the back of his neck. “I drank a whole lot last night, don’t even remember getting back home.”

“Your wife must have been quite angry,” Castiel said, innocently enough.

“Hah, no… no wife… I mean, I’m engaged, but not married. Not yet.” Dean shrugged, drumming his fingers over the Formica table top. “Lydia went back home for the Holidays, so I kinda dodged that bullet,” he added, shrugging again, before looking back at Castiel. “So… you got my wallet?”

Before Castiel could answer, Elizabeth brought the food over. “Sorry, forgot to ask if you wanted something to drink,” she told Castiel, then turned to Dean. “Hey, you! It’s been a while. How are you doing?”

“I’m good, thanks. How about you?” He didn’t really wait for her answer and looked back at Castiel. “If you could give me back my wallet, I’ll be out of your hair before your date gets here.”

Castiel took out the wallet and handed it to him. “Elizabeth, I’ll just have some water, thanks. And, huh, I’m not waiting for anyone else, Dean. I ordered this for you. Who doesn’t like bacon cheeseburger and fries, am I right?”

“Water for me too, Liz, thanks.” He squinted at Castiel, then looked down at the plate, clearly eager to have a taste. “My brother and my fiancée are big health nuts, they go crazy over salads and shit,” Dean said as he looked through his wallet. “It’s all there. I guess I can thank you by buying dinner.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “What? No, Dean… I’m not expecting some kind of reward, here. I just—I thought we could have a chat. Get to know each other better.”

“Oh yeah?” Dean said, already with a handful of fries in his mouth. “Why is that?”

“I—I don’t know. I’d say, why not, you know?”

Dean shrugged and nodded as he took a bite of his burger. Castiel did the same as he tried to find something to say. It’d be easier if Dean himself decided to start asking questions, but he didn’t seem all too eager to do that.

“So… you’re a mechanic?” Castiel asked after a while.

“I am. How do you know that?”

Castiel waved a hand at Dean. “You’re wearing that. And your workplace is written on the back.”

Once more, Dean squinted at him. “When the hell did you see my back?”

Heat bloomed in Castiel’s cheek, but he didn’t let it deter him. He pointed at the mirrors on the back wall. Dean turned to look where Castiel was pointing and chuckled.

“Touché! How about you? What do you do?” he asked before taking another huge bite of the sandwich.

And okay, maybe Castiel should have figured Dean would be asking that. His face felt right about to catch fire when he answered. “ _Imamortuarymakeupartist_ ,” he mumbled before stuffing his own mouth with fries.

“What?” Dean said. “I didn’t get that.”

Castiel swallowed and sighed. “I’m a… hmm… a mortuary makeup artist,” he said again, his voice even lower than before.

“You are? Wow, that’s… not common,” Dean said, looking impressed rather than disgusted. Which, in itself, was another point in his favor as far as Castiel was concerned.

“You don’t think it’s weird at all? Or disgusting, even?”

“Don’t think I could do that, but somebody’s gotta do it, don’t they? There’s no silly job, Cas, just silly people.”

Castiel couldn’t believe his luck; that guy really was all kinds of perfect. A soft smile crept on his face as he watched Dean destroy his dinner. Okay, not all the way perfect; his table manners were awful. Still, Castiel found he didn’t mind all that much.

“Wha’?” Dean asked when he noticed Castiel’s insistent gaze on him.

“Nothing… you’re really handsome.” Castiel almost choked on his own tongue; how the hell had he found the courage to say that? His heart sped up when he saw Dean blushing.

“Erm… thanks?” Dean looked embarrassed now, making Castiel want to forget about his plan and run back home to hide.

“I just mean… you could have told me you were a model and I would have believed it,” he said, only to think he was digging himself into a hole. “No homo,” he added, berating himself inwardly to be such a coward.

At least, that last part seemed enough to make Dean laugh. He threw his head back, the sight of his long neck enough to make Castiel’s mouth water.

“Really, dude? Did you just no-homo me?” he asked through his laughter. “That’s so lame! You know we’re in 2018, right?”

“You looked so embarrassed, I didn’t want to—”

“Don’t worry, I get embarrassed anytime someone says nice stuff to me.” He shrugged, plopping more fries in his mouth. “Not that it happens that often, so… you know… thanks! You’re a good guy. And you’re not too bad looking yourself, I guess.”

Emboldened, Castiel took out the piece of paper he’d prepared in the hope he’d get the overture he needed.

“Speaking of good… what would you say to a home cooked meal Saturday night? My treat.”

This time, there seemed to be a bit of fear in Dean’s green eyes. Castiel chose to disregard it.

“The lasagna is my mother’s recipe, it’s out of this world. This, with garlic bread, and apple pie for dessert. You like apple pie, don’t you?”

Dean squinted his eyes again. “I love pie… how do you know this? Doubt you saw this in the mirrors.” He turned around to look, not that there’d be anything to see.

Castiel shrugged. He wasn’t about to tell the guy he’d been stalking his brother’s Facebook page and saw pictures of Dean getting a pie instead of a cake on his last birthday.

“Everybody loves pie,” he said instead. “So, what do you say? Saturday around seven? My place?” he added, sliding the piece of paper with his address on it.

“Are you asking me on a date?” Dean said as he read the note. “I mean… I’m engaged, man. Plus, I don’t really—”

“Doesn’t have to be a date, Dean. Just two guys, hanging out. You know, like friends do. Come on, what do you have to lose?”

Dean’s expression closed off as he pushed his plate aside. “Look, I don’t wanna be mean or anything, but—”

“If you don’t like lasagna, I can make something else. What do you like?”

Castiel swallowed at the pitying look Dean sent him as he fished a couple of bills from his wallet. “Look, buddy… I’m real flattered, I am. It’s just… I’m super grateful you found my wallet and all, but I think we should just leave it at that. Okay?”

He put thirty dollars on the table, then placed Castiel’s note over it to slide it over to him. “Dinner’s on me. Nice to have met you, Cas. And thanks again for the wallet.”

“Think about it, all right?” Castiel insisted, pushing the money and note back at him. “I’m paying. It’s the least I can do after embarrassing you like this.”

“I’m not embarrassed, just… let’s grab a beer together if we ever meet at _Harvelle’s_ again, yeah?”

“If I don’t see you at my place before that,” Castiel said with a wink. “You got my number, so don’t hesitate, all right?”

Dean sighed, wiping a hand over his face before taking back the money and note. “I’ll think about it,” Dean said before waving his goodbyes at Elizabeth and leaving the restaurant. Castiel let himself fall back on the seat, euphoria clouding his brain into thinking Dean had just agreed to come to dinner Saturday night.


	13. Chapter 13

 

Castiel spent his Friday with his head in the clouds. It didn’t matter that Hannah tried to tell him Dean probably wouldn’t come over, Castiel didn’t let her lack of faith bring him down.

“You weren’t there, Hannah… he likes me, I could tell. Tomorrow night, Dean Winchester will be mine.”

And when he woke up on Saturday morning, the feelings of accomplishment were still there, strong as ever. He prepared some coffee and started to clean up the studio apartment as he waited for his new mattress to be delivered. He’d had the same old one for years, and Dean Winchester deserved better. To some extent, Castiel led himself to believe he too kind of deserved better.

The delivery guys came in mid-afternoon, leaving with Castiel’s old mattress. He made the bed, putting on the new purple satin sheets he’d bought the day before and laying the new white goose down comforter over them. He added a couple of throw pillows he’d found at the second-hand store down the street and smiled as he looked around: the small apartment looked amazing.

He looked at his watch to see it was almost four already. The pasta sauce had been simmering for a couple of hours already, it would soon be perfect for Castiel to assemble the lasagna. What he needed to work on now was dessert. He pulled the prepared pie crusts from the fridge before going to get his laptop to set it on the kitchen table.

He’d found a Youtube video on how to make a pie, considering he’d never baked anything in his life. He did his best to follow the instructions, satisfied to see his dessert looked kind of similar to what was on screen. Of course, his kitchen – which he had cleaned up that morning – looked like a war zone, but the pie’s allure vastly made up for it.

After putting the pie in the oven, Castiel cleaned up a bit before starting to prepare the lasagna. He thanked the heavens to have found no-boil pasta and already shredded cheese as he started working. He could have also bought the sauce, but that was the one thing he believed made the dish special; his mother’s spaghetti sauce, the same one Chuck had kept making after she passed away. Right up until the moment Naomi entered their lives.

Castiel put the lasagna in the oven a little bit after six. He cleaned up the kitchen more thoroughly this time, the pie cooling on the table he had set earlier. He looked around, the apartment looking perfect and smelling heavenly. He took a quick bath before putting on his nicer clothes. Dean had seen him wearing them before, but he hoped he wouldn’t mind.

Since Castiel’s ultimate plan was to seduce him, he kind of hoped they wouldn’t be wearing clothes all that long anyway. He blushed at the thought of what could be happening within the next couple of hours, glad he’d taken the time to go and buy a nice pair of satin panty-like underwear. He blushed some more when he thought how they hid nothing of his anatomy and how sexy it made him feel. Dean would never be able to resist him.

When the oven beeped a little before seven, Castiel set it so it would keep the lasagna warm. He put on his favorite instrumental playlist and uncorked the wine to give it time to breathe.

At seven forty-five, Castiel started pacing around the apartment, wondering what could be keeping Dean.

At five after eight, he poured himself a glass of wine as he started getting worried about the lasagna going bad under the warmer. Wouldn’t it be overcooked or something?

At nine thirty, Castiel emptied the last of the bottle in his glass, glaring at the door. What the hell took so long? He grabbed his phone to send Dean a text, saying he hoped everything was okay. He didn’t get an answer.

Around eleven, Castiel was startled awake by loud knocks on his door. He had fallen asleep at the table, most probably due to drinking a whole bottle of wine. Unsteady, he got to his feet to go open the door. On the other side stood the man he had lost hope to ever see again.

Dean was holding the note with Castiel’s address on it, looking very much intoxicated. “You invited me to dinner,” he said, looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes.

“You were supposed to be here at seven,” Castiel said with a pout. “I made lasagna, and pie, and… the lasagna!” he said before running back inside to take it out of the oven. He dropped the dish on the stove top and sighed. “It’s ruined.”

Dean’s face leaning over Castiel’s shoulder made him shiver. “Looks good enough,” Dean countered as he plucked a piece of the crunchy top layer to plop it in his mouth. “M’sorry,” he then said, taking a step back to lean against the counter. “Thought I’d thrown it.”

He was still holding Castiel’s address between his fingers, twirling it. “My brother found it. Thinks I’m cheatin’ on Lydia… m’not.” He looked up at Castiel. “Am I?”

Castiel shrugged. “I kind of hoped you would. Guess I’m not that nice after all.”

Dean gave him a playful punch on the shoulder. “You’re a dude… dude!” he said before erupting in laughter. Until he had to stop to burp, swaying on his feet. “M’not feeling so good.”

Castiel just had time to wrap his arms around Dean’s torso before his knees buckled. Used to manipulating lifeless bodies, Castiel easily brought him over to his bed. He helped Dean lie on it, making sure he’d be on his side rather than his back, then placed a plastic bin next to the bed.

“In case you need to vomit,” he said, not that Dean seemed conscious enough to hear him. He then went to the foot of the bed to take off the man’s boots. Once that was done, he unfastened Dean’s pants, deciding that pulling them off would be helpful because sleeping in jeans? Not the most comfortable thing.

As he worked, he tried to ignore all those thoughts he’d had about getting in bed with Dean. He treated him like one of his clients instead, divesting him in the most clinical way possible. Which he found easy to do, seeing how Castiel wasn’t a necrophiliac and Dean was pretty much dead to world right now.

He went to the cedar chest at the foot of the bed to take out a blanket, thinking he’d manhandled him enough as it was. He let him sleep over the comforter, getting under it on the other side of the bed.

As he lay on his side, his back turned to Dean, Castiel couldn’t help being elated. It didn’t matter that Dean had gotten to his place drunk out of his mind, he still had come. Which meant he had to be somewhat interested.

He thought back to his teenage years – when he didn’t really understand why he never found himself interested in girls. Not really, anyway. He’d had a girlfriend during his senior year, a girl named April that turned out to be a real piece of work, dumping him a week before prom in front of everyone and making sure she told everyone Castiel had to be gay since he never tried getting her into bed.

Of course, she’d been right, but Castiel hadn’t been ready to face it. Even in college, where most people experimented, Castiel had kept to himself, not trying to get with anyone, would they be a guy or a girl. Strangely enough, he hadn’t really minded, arguing he preferred to focus on his studies rather than partying.

Being gay had only really become a plausible explanation during his last year of college when his roommate Bartholomew came in drunk one night and kissed him. It had been sloppy, to say the least, yet it still had been enough for Castiel to understand why he’d never tried anything with April.

His first and only sexual experience happened that night, with Bart. Sadly, the next morning, Bart started wailing on him, professing he wasn’t gay and that Castiel had taken advantage of him. Which, in hindsight, wasn’t all that far from the truth. No matter how Castiel begged for forgiveness, his face bloody and bruised, Bart moved out the very same day. When Mick moved in a couple of days later, Castiel kept his distance, hardly ever talking to his new roommate.

From that moment on, he never tried meeting anybody, working round the clock to get his degree and starting at Adler’s Funeral Home, not even a month after graduating.

Dean starting to snore made Castiel thoughts divert back to the present. Was Dean some kind of closet case like Bart had been? One that would turn violent come morning? He turned around to face Dean, who was still facing the other way. He licked his lips, tempted to line his body against Dean’s, but didn’t. Taking advantage of someone while they were drunk was a mistake he couldn’t bear the thought of repeating. Never again.

He closed his eyes, letting himself be lulled to sleep by Dean’s steady, and kind of loud, snoring.


	14. Chapter 14

 

“What the hell?”

Castiel didn’t need more than that to wake up. He opened his eyes and smiled when he saw Dean still in bed next to him. Said smile dwindled a bit when he noticed the panic on Dean’s features when he turned to him.

“What the fuck are you doing in my—” He interrupted himself to glance around, looking increasingly puzzled. “Not my bed… what the hell happened?” He looked down at himself, then under the blanket before letting out a relieved sigh. “Did we…” he asked, pointing to and fro between the two of them.

Castiel gave him a reassuring smile. “Nothing sexual happened if that’s what you’re wondering. We were true gentlemen.”

Dean visibly winced, once more looking down at himself. “How am I only in my skivvies, then?”

“You came here pretty intoxicated. I thought you’d be more comfortable this way,” Castiel explained as he sat up. “Don’t worry, I’m used to dealing with inert bodies.”

“Ah, yeah… you work with dead folks,” Dean said as he too sat up. He looked around to notice the kitchen table all set up and swallowed with a click. “I really should get back home.”

Panic washed over Castiel at that. Still, his voice sounded calm enough when he spoke. “Stay a bit… I’ll make some coffee and warm up the pie. Apple pie’s also good for breakfast, don’t you think?” He got off the bed, glad he had put on pajama pants the night before. “I’ll draw you a bath… not to be mean, but you don’t smell all that nice.”

Castiel noticed Dean blushing as he smelled his own armpit. “Yup, you got that right, thanks. I’ll just take a shower though, it’ll only take five minutes and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Sorry, my landlord still needs to install shower facilities. All I have is a bath. Come.”

Castiel preceded Dean into the bathroom, making a beeline for the bath to plug it and turn on the water. “Would you like some essential oils, or—”

“No! I mean… plain water’s fine. I’ll be quick.” He dropped the clothes he had brought with him on the tiled floor. “See you in five,” he added, expectant for his host to leave the bathroom.

Castiel nodded and complied, closing the door behind him. Once on his own, he let out a trembling breath, taking support on the door. It took him a whole minute before he was able to move again. As promised, he prepared the coffee, putting the pie in the oven to make it warm while the coffee brewed.

While he waited, he made the table look less fancy, more appropriate for breakfast. The percolator had just beeped when Dean came out of the bathroom, all dressed up and his hair damp.

“Smells great,” he said as he joined him in the kitchen area. “Did you say we’d be having pie for breakfast?”

Castiel smiled as he poured two cups of coffee. He brought them to the table then motioned for Dean to sit. “I did. It was supposed to be dessert, but I think it works just as well for breakfast.”

“I totally agree,” Dean said, a small smile on his lips. “Look, I’m sorry, man. I shouldn’t have come here, all drunk and shit.”

“I did invite you.”

“Yeah, you did. Still… not sure what you expected would happen, but—”

Castiel shrugged, not letting him finish his thought. “I expected to seduce you, but I think you knew that already.”

Heat bloomed on Dean’s face again. “Yeah, I kinda got that. It’s just, I’m with someone.”

“And you’re straight.”

Castiel got up to take the pie out of the oven. He brought the tin to the table, resting it over a cork trivet before cutting into it. He almost messed up the first slice when Dean spoke again.

“Being straight has little to do with anything. Mostly, I’m engaged.”

Keeping his eyes on his task, Castiel tried to ignore how his mind had started racing. Was Dean telling him that if he hadn’t been in a relationship, he would have considered dating him? He shook the thought away and smiled. “I have some vanilla ice cream if you’d like some.”

“I’m good, thanks,” Dean said, already cutting a bite of pie with his fork. Castiel eye’s followed the utensil as Dean brought it to his mouth. His beautiful mouth where rested tiny flakes of the crust.

“Wow, this is awesome, Cas,” he said in a hum before forking a second bite in his mouth.

“I’m glad you like it.”

As he watched Dean plow through his serving, Castiel pretty much forgot to eat his own slice. Only when Dean asked for seconds did he notice Castiel hadn’t touched his.

“You’re not eating? You don’t like pie?”

“Oh, no. I like it just fine. I’m just not that hungry I guess.”

Dean nodded, understanding. “Other than being a mortician or whatever, what is it you do?”

“It’s my only job.”

“No, I mean for fun. What do you do for fun?” Dean said, chuckling.

“Oh… I mostly read I guess. Watch a bit of TV, too.”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

“Documentaries, mostly. Nature shows, things like that. The animal kingdom is a fascinating thing.”

“How ’bout movies? Or anything non-educational?”

Castiel shrugged, picking at the crust of his pie with his fork. “I’ve seen movies. Probably not a whole lot, but I did.”

“I love movies, mostly action and superhero stuff. Or space stuff, like _Star Wars_.”

“Never seen  _Star Wars_.”

It was Castiel’s turn to blush when he saw the shock on Dean’s face. “Are you kidding me right now? How could you have not seen that?”

Castiel shrugged. “Just never had the occasion, I guess.”

Dean ate the last of his second serving of pie before pointing his fork at him. “You’re lucky I have somewhere to be, otherwise I’d be making you watch ’em,” he said, contributing to Castiel blushing even more. “But I really gotta go to work.”

“On a Sunday?”

“People’s cars also need work on Sundays, Cas. Plus, I could use the extra cash.”

“Is that why you didn’t go with your fiancée to visit her family?”

Dean looked confused for a second, then nodded. “Forgot I’d told you ’bout that. Yeah, kinda. This and the fact that they don’t like me all that much.”

“They don’t?”

The smile that crept over Dean’s features had a bitter edge to it. “They’re white collar folks, you know? Why you’d wanna get your hands dirty isn’t something they understand.”

“In other words, they are snobs. At least your fiancée doesn’t seem to mind.” The purse in Dean’s lips made Castiel’s heart skip a beat. “She doesn’t mind that you’re a mechanic, does she?”

“She’d prefer that I go to work for her dad. And that I agree we move to Atlanta.”

“Atlanta? Why Atlanta?”

“That’s where she’s from, and she’d rather go back there. We’re kinda supposed to do that when we get married.”

Castiel may have been a little rusty in basic human interactions, he could still feel the wave of resentment wafting off of Dean. “You don’t seem to be all that excited about that,” he dared to say.

“My whole life is here; my job, my friends, my brother. He’s the only blood I got left, so, you know…”

“What about your parents?”

Dean downed the last of his coffee before responding. “Both dead… we’ve been orphans for almost ten years now. That kid’s my whole world, you know?”

Castiel nodded, taking a deep breath before responding. “I kind of know what you mean. I lost my mother almost twenty-five years ago now.”

“And your dad?”

“Still alive, although I kind of wonder if it’d be all that different if he was dead. Not that I wish him dead or anything… it’s just… he just got married again, but he’s been with that woman for years now and it didn’t take long for me to realize she was what mattered most for him.”

“I’m sure you matter, too.”

“Not enough to stand up to his wife whenever she says crap about me.”

Dean gave him an understanding nod. “She gives you shit for being gay?”

This time, Castiel could have sworn his whole face had caught on fire. “How—I mean—no—they don’t know. Well… I kinda told them last time I saw them, yeah.”

“You’ve only just come out? How old are you, dude? Didn’t you ever introduce them to your boyfriends?”

“Twenty-nine. And… it’s complicated.” He cleared his throat, shame making his eyes sting. “I’ve never had anyone to bring home, all right?”

“Oh… you’re… hmm… you’re a virgin, then?”

Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “No, I’ve had sex before. I’ve just never been in a relationship, not really… not since the couple of months I dated April as a senior.”

Dean nodded, then glanced at his watch. “Look, not that I’m bored, but—”

“I know, you have to go to work. Still, thank you for coming over, and not running out in fear this morning.”

“It’s okay, man. I mean, you’re still a cool dude to talk to. I was kinda trying to blow you off the other day, but now I mean it when I say that we could chat over a beer if you ever come back at _Harvelle’s_.”

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

Dean gave a pointed look to the empty wine bottle on the counter.

“I was in a bad mood,” Castiel offered as an excuse, then smiled. “Say, could I ask something of you?”

“You can try,” Dean said.

“If you don’t have anything planned later today, could you maybe meet me at my father’s place? It’s Sunday dinner and—”

“Cas—”

“I know, you’re engaged, and I’m a man. I know all of this. It’s just… I may have told them I had a boyfriend already, blurted it all out at Sunday dinner last week and—Naomi clearly didn’t believe me.” He looked up to lock eyes with Dean. “She doesn’t believe I could ever get anyone doing what I do, or looking the way I look.”

Dean frowned. “Why? Because you’re a mortician?”

“Not a mortician, but it’s all the same to her. This and how I dress, and she hates my hair. I mean, I know I’m not the most handsome guy out there, I just wish she’d stop saying it.”

“She calls you ugly?”

“No, she wouldn’t dare. She still doesn’t believe I’m good enough for anyone to love me.”

Rolling his eyes, Dean got to his feet. “All right! What time is that dinner thing?”

“You’ll come?” Castiel said in a squeak, his eyes wide as saucers. “Hmm… I usually get there around four, four thirty.”

“Perfect, I should be able to go home and change around three. Do they live very far from here?”

“Eudora. Takes about forty-five minutes by bus.”

Dean chuckled as he made his way toward the door to put his boots and coat on. “Not taking the bus, Cas. I’ll pick you up around four. How does that sound?”

Castiel came to stand closer to him, once more making sure their eyes met. “You’re really gonna do this for me? What’s in it for you?”

“Not a fan of bullies, and from the little you’ve told me, that Naomi chick is a bully.”

“Bully may be a bit much, but… thank you, Dean. Really.”

Dean squeezed Castiel’s shoulder and smiled. “Thank me later, dude. See you at four!”


	15. Chapter 15

 

As he’d promised, Dean knocked on Castiel’s door at four o’clock that afternoon. Castiel opened to see the man looking dapper in a nice pair of black jeans and a dark red button down. He gaped at him, at a loss for words.

Dean saw his shocked expression, looked down at himself then back at Castiel. “Is that—is that not okay?”

Castiel had to swallow before even attempting to answer. “No… I mean… you look great! You didn’t have to dress up or anything. It’s nothing real fancy, just Sunday dinner.”

A crooked smile appeared on Dean’s face. “If it’s so casual, then why are you wearing that?” he asked, waving at Castiel’s new pants and shirt, the same ones he’d been wearing the night before. “Do you always dress like this for Sunday dinner?”

“It’s new, and I just felt like wearing it,” Castiel said as he stepped outside the apartment. He closed and locked the door before taking the lead toward the stairs. He bristled when he felt Dean take his hand. He looked between them, then back up at Dean. “You don’t need to do this, you know,” he said. Not that he tried to evade his grip.

“I’m thinking you might need a bit of practice before we get to your dad’s… otherwise, they won’t buy it.”

Castiel probably would have agreed with him and kept his hand in Dean’s if Mr. Donatello hadn’t stepped out of his apartment at this very moment. He took his own hand back, blushing furiously, before nodding at his neighbor and landlord.

“Well, hello there, Castiel. Going out with a friend, I see. You boys look very chic.”

“Thank you, Mr. Donatello,” he answered, hoping that would be the end of it.

“I remember when I was your age,” the older man said, coming to stand between them and the stairs. “I would go out every weekend, go dancin’ to get with the ladies. Those were the days. Where are you boys going? A club? Are clubs even open on Sundays?”

“We’re just going to dinner.” Castiel made sure Mr. Donatello saw him look down at his watch. “We really can’t be late.”

“Ah, I bet it’s one of those speed dating things, right? Wish we’d had that when I was a younger fellah. Now you go and have fun, boys. Good luck with the ladies,” he said, this time stepping aside to let Dean and Castiel through.

Once outside, Castiel couldn’t help but gasp when he saw the shiny black car parked in front of his place. He’d seen it before; it was the same that could be seen in that picture Castiel stole from Lydia’s Facebook account.

“She’s a beauty, ain’t she?” Dean said as he opened the passenger door for Castiel. “I restored her myself, top to bottom.”

Castiel waited for Dean to be sitting next to him to respond. “You made the car?”

“I restored her. She’s always had great bones, only needed a bit of TLC.” Dean turned the engine on, the pleasure evident on his face as she roared alive. “She’s the most important thing in my life… after my brother, of course.”

Castiel nodded, although confused how Dean could find a car more important than his fiancée. The thought was enough for him to be even more convinced that Dean wasn’t happy with Lydia. Why was he going to marry her, then?

It only took twenty-five minutes for the Impala to come to a stop, Dean parking it on the street in front of Chuck’s house. Before either men could get out, an excited Samandriel dashed out the front door.

“That’s Samandriel, my stepbrother,” Castiel explained quickly, realizing Dean should at least have heard about him. “He’s Naomi’s son, a sweet kid. And my dad’s name is Chuck.”

Dean nodded. “Not gonna call your dad Chuck, Cas. What’s your last name?”

“Shurley.”

“Great… Mr. and Mrs. Shurley, gotcha!”

Castiel turned to see his little brother on the sidewalk, fidgeting he was so excited. He opened the door, only to have the boy wrap himself around him before he even got to close the door.

“Hey, little man,” Castiel said as he hugged him back. Dean, who had also gotten out, came to close the door and wrap an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. Samandriel soon let Castiel go, then looked up at Dean.

“Are you Castiel’s boyfriend?”

Dean smiled, offering the boy his hand to shake. “Yup… my name’s Dean. And you gotta be Samandriel, right?”

“You can call me Sam,” the boy said as he shook Dean’s hand.

“You don’t say… my little brother’s name is Sam too. What are the odds?”

Samandriel giggled, then took both their hands to pull them toward the house. In the door frame stood a visibly shocked Naomi. Shocked, but still composed if the tight smile on her lips was anything to go by. As soon as Samandriel let their hands go, Dean’s hand found Castiel’s to give it a comforting squeeze.

“Castiel, you brought a friend,” she said, her tone on this side of too sweet. “Thought you’d at least give me a heads up.”

“Oh, but I did,” Castiel said. “Remember? Told you last Sunday. Maybe you just forgot, like you forgot I’d be coming to your wedding.”

Naomi’s smile widened, but it never reached her eyes. “Maybe I did, yes.” She took a couple of steps back so they could come in. “Come on, it’s chilly out. I’m Naomi… and you’re… Dean Winchester, am I right?”

Castiel swallowed. He had told her and his father that his boyfriend’s name was Dean Winchester. Never in a million year did he think she’d remember that. And even if she had been close enough to hear him introduce himself to Samandriel, he still hadn’t said his whole name. Castiel glanced at Dean to see he didn’t seem to have noticed anything out of the ordinary.

“Yup, that’s me… and of course, you are the lovely Mrs. Shurley. So nice to finally meet you.”

Naomi blinked a couple of times. “Indeed, yes… same here, I’m sure. Chuck, Honey? Come here, would you?” she called out, her confused gaze never leaving the two men. “Cassie brought a friend to dinner!”

“Come,” Castiel said as he pulled Dean toward the dining room. He knew waiting for Chuck would be a waste of time. As expected, Chuck was already seated in his usual place, eyes glued to the TV.

“Hey, Dad,” he said as he went to stand between his father and the TV set. The man looked up and smiled at his son before noticing the man standing next to him. Chuck swallowed, giving Dean a small nod as he reached out his hand. “Chuck Shurley… Castiel’s father. And you are?”

“Honey, you remember Cassie’s announcement last week, don’t you? This is Dean Winchester, his boyfriend,” she explained, emphasizing the last word. A shadow passed over Chuck’s face, but too quickly for Castiel to really interpret it. His father soon smiled, beckoning them to sit at the table.

“Glad to meet you, Dean,” he said, turning his attention back to the TV as soon as Castiel had moved out of the way.

“Glad to meet you too, Mr. Shurley,” Dean said as he sat down, which garnered no response.

“It’s a good thing I made pot roast, there should be enough for everyone,” Naomi said before disappearing into the kitchen.

Samandriel sat across Dean and Castiel, looking at them both with stars in his eyes.

“What’s going on with you, little man?” Castiel asked, his head tilted.

“Your boyfriend is really pretty. He looks like a prince.”

Dean’s cheek reddened while Castiel chuckled. “He is, isn’t he?” Samandriel giggled but said nothing more as they waited for dinner to be served.

A whole ten minutes later, everyone had been served with pot roast, mashed potatoes, and green beans. Naomi took the gravy boat – Castiel’s mother’s gravy boat – to pour herself some red wine sauce before putting it back on the table without offering it to anyone else. Castiel huffed, taking the sauce and showing it to Dean.

“Would you like some?” he asked, to which Dean only nodded, his mouth already full of mashed potatoes. He poured the sauce on the meat, only stopping when Dean lifted a finger. Castiel then poured some over his own meat before putting it back on the table.

“So tell me, Dean… where did you and our little Cassie meet?”

Before Dean could say a word, Castiel caught her eyes. “I’ve asked you before, Naomi. Please, call me Cas.”

“Very well… Cas… now, tell me, how did you boys meet?”

This time, both Dean and Castiel spoke at once, only not with the same answer. While Castiel said “On the bus.”, Dean said, “At a bar.” Naomi quirked a single eyebrow as both men giggled, embarrassed.

“Let me explain,” Castiel said, giving Dean’s hand a little pat. “The first time we saw each other, it was on the bus. But we spoke to each other for the first time at a bar.”

“You? You hang out in bars? Did you hear this, Honey? Your son hangs out at bars and picks up men.” She gave Castiel a pointed look. “You know this could be dangerous, don’t you?”

“Not any more dangerous than strangers meeting in a grocery store’s check-out line,” he countered. Naomi didn’t take the bait this time, offering him a broad smile.

“I doubt many people get drugged in a check-out line, Sweetheart. And people aren’t usually drunk either. The way your father and I met was much more…” She sighed as she looked for the right word. “Organic.”

Castiel resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He also barely jumped when Dean entwined his fingers with the hand he had resting on the table.

“I’d say the immediate attraction we felt for one another was pretty organic. Wasn’t it, Babe?”

 

 

When Dean’s lips landed on his cheek, Castiel almost lost it. Or almost fainted. What he certainly did was blush furiously while Naomi’s eyebrows looked like they wanted to hide in her scalp.

She quickly found her countenance again, pinching her lips as she cut a piece of meat. “I’m glad you boys are happy, Castiel, but I’d rather you kept the public displays at a minimum.” She glanced at Samandriel. “There’s a child present in the room.”


	16. Chapter 16

 

“You’ll be safe on the road now, will you?” Naomi said as she gave each Castiel and Dean short hugs. “It might start snowing soon.”

“We’ll be okay, it’s only about a twenty-minute drive,” Dean answered as he helped Castiel put his trench coat on.

“Oh, Sweetheart. I can’t believe you still haven’t thrown this unfortunate thing out. You went through the trouble of buying nice clothes, yet you keep this dreadful coat. Don’t you think it makes it all… I don’t know… unworthy?” She pinched her lips as she tried to rearrange the lapels of Castiel’s coat. “You didn’t even bother wearing clothes this nice for our wedding.”

“Didn’t have time to change after work,” Castiel only answered, sending a quick look to his father who didn’t bother adding anything.

Naomi stopped fiddling with Castiel’s coat, taking a step back as she crossed her arms. “We’re going to my sister’s for Christmas this year. You boys are both welcome to join us,” she said, tilting her head as she addressed Castiel. “Of course, there’s gonna be a whole lot of people, the whole family’s gonna be there. You’ll hardly know anyone, but—”

Castiel lifted his chin. “Don’t worry about us, Naomi. Dean and I already have plans for Christmas,” he said as he slid an arm around Dean’s waist.

He looked startled, but only for half a second. “Huh? Oh, yeah… made plans weeks ago. We’re good, but thanks. Next year, maybe?”

“Of course, next year,” Naomi said with a tight smile before ushering them outside. The door closed in their backs, the light on the front porch getting turned off before they even reached the car.

“I’m sorry to tell you this, Castiel, but that woman is evil,” Dean spat the second they were in the car.

Even with a guest at their table, neither Naomi nor Chuck had acted much different than they always did. Naomi had spent the evening sending Castiel less than subtle jabs while Chuck hardly ever looked away from the football game he’d been watching. Even after Dean made an effort to try and speak about the match.

“Evil may be a bit much,” Castiel said.

“No, Cas… she’s a bitch.”

Castiel shrugged, relieved when Dean started the engine. The evening had been taxing and all he wanted now was to crawl in bed and hoped he could find the will to sleep. “Even if she’s a bitch, there’s nothing I can do about it. She married my dad, I’m stuck with her.”

“Yeah, your dad… that’s another champ right there.”

This time, Castiel turned to look at Dean. “He’s still my father, Dean. He’s the only family I got left, so… this is too much, let’s just talk about something else, okay? Or not talk at all, I don’t care.”

Dean glanced at him, a contrite look on his face. “I’m sorry, Cas. I shouldn’t be talking shit about your dad. Still, you deserve to be treated better than you were back there.”

Castiel rolled his eyes. “It’s not so bad, just highly frustrating at times. I’m sorry too, to have snapped at you. You were nice enough to come here with me… I’ll always be grateful.”

“It was nothing, really. I kinda get it, you know? As Bobby says, family doesn’t end with blood. I see how you really like your little brother, even though he has nothing to do with you. So I know you get it.”

“I do,” Castiel said, the thought of Samandriel enough to soothe his nerves a bit. “He’s a great kid. And he liked you,” he added, before getting anxious again. “I’m not saying this to trick you into being my friend or anything.”

“I know, Cas.”

“And… about Christmas… you know I only said that for Naomi’s sake, right?”

“I know that too.”

“Okay, good.”

They didn’t speak for most of the drive, Castiel keeping his gaze out the side window. Naomi had been right: Small flakes started falling, mostly twirling, as they made their way back. Dean speaking again startled him.

“It’s still early. Am I right to think you’d like to unwind a bit before going to bed?”

Castiel may have been daydreaming about his bed, Dean having other ideas intrigued him enough to listen. “What do you have in mind?”

“What do you say we go to  _Harvelle’s_ and have a drink? Just one,” Dean promised with a chuckle. “I don’t drive my Baby intoxicated and I’ll still have to bring you back home.”

“Why would you drive me back after going to _Harvelle’s_? You’re almost home at that point.”

“Huh… you seem to know a whole lot about me, Cas. I’ve been wondering how that is.”

Castiel swallowed. “Not sure what you mean.” When he turned to Dean, he was surprised to see a smirk on his face.

“Your explanation for knowing I was a mechanic was totally believable, I was even impressed that you could read the logo backward like that.”

“I did—”

“And then, you knew I loved pie. Which, again, is probably the case for a lot of people. I mean, pie’s amazing, so it’s plausible.”

Dean paused as if giving Castiel a chance to say something. When he didn’t, Dean glanced at him. “But then Naomi knew my full name. Apparently, you told her about me a week ago?”

“No—I mean—I told—I told them I had a boyfriend… I didn’t—I called her earlier and—”

“I don’t think you did, no.”

Castiel only realized he had started hyperventilating when Dean parked the car and put his hand on him. He jumped back, worried about Dean what could be about to do to him.

“Hey, whoa, Cas… are you okay?” Dean said, his voice soothing.

“Don’t hurt me,” Castiel only said, his back against the side door. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“I’m not gonna hurt you Cas, come on. Take a deep breath, all right? You’re turning blue.”

“I—I’m sorry,” Castiel said between ragged breaths. “I can’t—”

Castiel startled again when Dean moved, but he didn’t touch him. Instead, he moved a bit closer to try and catch his gaze.

“You gotta breathe, Cas. Do it with me.” Dean inhaled slowly, soon exhaling in a similar manner.

Castiel closed his eyes, finding Dean’s gaze too difficult to hold. It helped him concentrate on the man breathing next to him. It took a bit of time, but Castiel managed to mirror Dean’s rhythm. He couldn’t say for how long they breathed together, but it felt like hours.

“Better?” Dean asked, his voice soft and low. “Tell me what you need.”

Dean speaking so close to him made Castiel shiver. “I’m better, thank you. Sorry for going crazy like that.” He looked around to see they actually were pretty close to the bar already.

“Having panic attacks isn’t being crazy, Cas. Believe me, I know… Sammy, my brother, he’d have ’em before, not long after our dad died. I mean… he was the one to find him and it messed him up real bad for some time. I know it’s something you don’t have a choice over.”

“If only I could… anyway, thank you for your help. I think I could go for a drink right about now,” he said in a breathy voice. “My treat?”

“You sure?”

Castiel smiled. “Yeah! Believe me, sometimes it helps to drown the panic in a bit of alcohol,” he said, making Dean chuckle.

“All right, if you say so.”

Dean turned off the engine, waiting for Castiel to open his door before doing the same on his side. He came to join him, once more grabbing Castiel’s hand in a comforting grip as they made their way to the bar.

“Hey! Dean!” they heard from their left. Dean let go of Castiel’s hand and took a step aside, distancing himself minutely.

“Hey! What the hell are you doing here?” Dean said, going to hug the tall man that had been coming their way. The same man Castiel had believed was Dean’s lover but who had turned out to be his brother: Sam. “Don’t you work tomorrow morning?” Dean asked, his back now turned to Castiel.

“I do… still felt like coming down for a drink. Been going over my case files all day, I just needed a break.” In saying that, Sam looked over Dean’s shoulder to appraise Castiel. “Who’s your friend?”

When Dean turned around, he had a pinched look on his face. “Huh… hmm… that’s Cas… that’s… that’s the guy that found my wallet.”

“Wait… Cas? Wasn’t that the name on that paper I found yesterday? Man, you just had to tell me it was a guy,” Sam said, chuckling. “Can you believe I gave Dean shit because I thought he was about to cheat on his fiancée?” He gave Castiel a sympathetic clap on the shoulder. “So? You comin’ in to have a drink or what?”

When Dean intervened, Castiel felt little cracks forming in his heart. “Yeah… was about to drive him—drive him back to his place. Ain’t that right, Cas?” Dean said, him too slapping Castiel over the shoulder, just a little harder than his brother had.

Castiel’s heart shattered this time. He opened his mouth, wanting to save face by saying his goodbyes without an apparent care in the world. He couldn’t even do that as he hung his head low, turning his back to the brothers to start walking toward his place.

“Cas!” he heard Dean say behind him, but he didn’t stop. When Dean called after him again, he sounded further away; Dean wasn’t coming after him.

Of course, he wouldn’t be coming after him, why would he? Not only didn’t they have a chance at anything romantic, they apparently had no future as friends either. The second he spotted a taxi coming toward him, Castiel almost jumped in front of it so it would stop. A mere five minutes later, the cab was parking in front of Castiel’s apartment building.

Castiel gave the man a ten dollar bill and ran out without waiting for his change. He was about to go inside when he heard a familiar rumbling engine come to a stop behind him. He didn’t turn to look, refusing to believe it could be the Impala.

“Cas! Would you fucking wait?” Dean yelled. With his heart in his throat, Castiel turned to glare at him and went in the apartment building to go up the second floor. The door didn’t have time to latch before Dean pushed it open and followed Castiel up the stairs.

“Leave me alone,” he spat when Dean grabbed his arm.

“Listen to me, would you?” Dean countered, forcing Castiel to turn around and face him. Castiel refused to look at him, keeping his eyes closed. “Look at me… please, Cas.”

“It’s okay, Dean. I get it, I’m this weird homo creep with a stupid crush on a beautiful straight guy. Classic story.”

His eyes flew open when he heard Dean chuckle. “Please don’t mock me on top of everything. I couldn’t take it.”

“M’not mocking you, Cas… it’s just, don’t think we’ve been reading the same classic stories, is all.” With Castiel being less combative, Dean let him go, yet not moving away from him. “And I may not be a hundred percent straight, Cas… I may be kinda bi. I think… I mean—”

Castiel didn’t give Dean time to finish, pressing their mouths together. He jumped back to look at Dean with fear in his eyes again. “I’m sor—”

This time, it was Dean who pressed forward, capturing Castiel’s lips with his.

“Castiel? Are you—oh! oh my… Castiel? I—please mind the noise, would you? People are trying to sleep,” they heard Mr. Donatello say before he slammed his door shut.

Both men separated, panting with their foreheads pressed together. I was Dean who found his voice first.

“Think we better take this inside… what do you say?”


	17. Chapter 17

 

It didn’t matter that Castiel had dreamed about welcoming Dean in his bed, there still had been a part of himself that never believed it would happen. And now that the man of his dreams actually wanted to be with him, Castiel couldn’t help freeze on the spot.

Dean noticed immediately, his roaming hands coming to a stop to hover over his hips.

“Cas?” he asked, his gaze searching.

Castiel averted his eyes, worried Dean would turn around and leave if he shared his reservations. Still, he did and once more, Castiel found himself surprised by Dean’s response.

He brought one of his hands to rest on Castiel’s jaw, rubbing his thumb smoothly over his skin. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, Cas. I mean, I’d like to, you know… do stuff with you. But we don’t have to.”

Castiel found the will to look back at him, locking their eyes together. “Last time I—the only time I did this…” He choked, needing to clear his throat to continue. “The guy was drunk and the next morning, he said I had violated him… and he beat me up pretty bad just so I learn my lesson. I can’t go through this again,” he admitted.

Dean sighed, bringing his other hand up to cradle his face before leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. “I’m not drunk, Cas… haven’t had a drop of alcohol all day. I really want this. Do you?”

Castiel nodded, the lump in his throat preventing him to speak. Dean kissed him again, deeper this time, requesting access to his mouth by sliding his tongue along the seam of his lips. He let him in with a deep sigh, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck as they fell against the door with a thump.

Dean chuckled in his mouth, wrapping his own arms around Castiel to guide him toward the bed instead. They fell on it as one, tangled together. Lying on his back, Castiel let Dean unbutton his shirt and kiss his skin as he traveled downward. When Dean licked a strip from his bellybutton to the hem of his pants, Castiel moaned.

He may not have technically been a virgin, his sole experience had been nothing like this. Preliminaries hadn’t been his or Bart’s priorities at the time. To a point that if Castiel hadn’t insisted on opening himself up a bit, Bart would no doubt have tried to fuck him without preparation. Castiel shivered, both from the memories and Dean’s hands working on unfastening his pants.

“You okay?” Dean asked, looking up at him through his lashes.

Castiel nodded, carding a hand in Dean’s soft hair. “I am…” He sat up, guiding Dean to come up and kiss him some more, then moved their bodies around so Dean would be the one lying down. He mirrored what Dean had done to him, unbuttoning Dean’s shirt to slide it off of him. He leaned back, his lips and skin tingling from their stubble rubbing together.

“I knew it… you really are perfect!” he said under his breath, his fingers brushing against the tattoo over Dean’s heart.

Dean blushed, looking down at himself. “Hardly… no matter what I do, my belly stays soft.”

Castiel smiled as he slid his hand down to rest it over Dean’s abdomen. “I think it’s perfect the way it is,” he said as he moved to straddle Dean’s thighs. “Don’t you ever let anyone say to the contrary.”

From that moment on, the heat between them rose exponentially, the urge to touch and taste taking precedence over the need to breathe. They didn’t speak as Dean made sure Castiel was ready, opening him up with expert fingers. As Castiel slid down Dean’s erect cock, nothing but the two of them existed.

Nothing they saw, touched, tasted, or heard was anything but each other. Dean came first, this side of too quickly, not that Castiel minded all that much. He, too, fell over the edge in record time, becoming lax in Dean’s arms as he coated him with his come, marking him.

They fell on the bed together, spent and glistening with sweat. His eyes catching on the ceiling, Castiel let out a soft chuckle.

“What’s up?” Dean asked, his voice strained.

“I was just thinking how mortified I would have been had I went ahead and put your picture above my bed.” Castiel bit his lower lip, only then remembering Dean wouldn’t have known about that.

“How would you have my picture above your bed?” he asked, sounding a bit more alert now. Castiel kept his gaze on the ceiling as he felt Dean move around beside him.

“Look at me,” Dean said softly. “Cas, please…”

Castiel turned his head to see Dean smiling at him. “You don’t need to worry, all right? I know how the Internet works, you can pretty much find anything about anybody on there. I won’t be mad, I swear.” He leaned forward to kiss him as he slid an arm around Castiel’s midsection.

Refusing to let himself panic over this, Castiel closed his eyes and sighed. “First time I saw you, it really was on the bus. A couple of weeks ago. I—” He opened his eyes to look at Dean, hoping he would see the truth in there. “You were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen and—I needed to know more.”

Although flustered, Dean only nodded, waiting for him to continue.

“The—I—I followed you to your place and saw where you lived… and since I had seen the logo on your back, I looked it up on the Internet when I got home. Found your place of employment, and your full name. Then, I went on Facebook.”

“Everybody does that nowadays, Cas.”

“Yeah, but… your page is private and then I found—I found Lydia’s page, from when you got engaged.” He scrunched his eyes closed. “I stalked you through your fiancée’s Facebook page, Dean. I even found your brother’s page and stalked you on there too.”

Dean chuckled. “That’s how you knew about the pie, am I right?”

“Yes, but I did so much worse… you’ll hate me when I tell you.” He took in a shaky breath, startling when Dean’s hand started to move on his side, soothing. “I came back around the next day, hoping we’d cross paths, but what I found instead was the building across the street. There are windows in the stairwell… I spied on you and Lydia, Dean. Who does that?”

Dean chuckled again, bringing Castiel closer to him. “Well, you do, apparently.”

“How are you not mad? I could be some kind of maniac. I mean, I had my friend steal your wallet so I’d have an excuse to meet you.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot almost all the way to his hairline. “You did?” he asked, chuckling now. “Well, now I gotta ask… are you a maniac?”

“Of course not, but—”

“Look, Cas… if you think you’re bad for stalking me, I’m even worse than you are.” Dean shook his head. “I’m cheating on my fiancée, Cas. Never cheated on anyone ’til now, and never believed I’d ever do it… yet, here I am.”

Castiel nodded. “Why now?”

Dean shrugged, taking his hand back. They weren’t touching anymore and Castiel had never felt as cold as he did at that moment. He waited, thinking Dean could be about to tell him they should never see each other again.

“I’m kinda stuck,” Dean eventually said. Like Castiel had been before, he was lying on his back with his eyes on the ceiling. “Lydia and me, it was never meant to last. It was a one night stand… until she called me up to say I’d gotten her pregnant.”

“She’s pregnant?” Castiel said, shocked. He didn’t feel good to have gone after a man that was taken, but a father to be? He sat up and moved as far away from Dean as he could.

“I didn’t know… I can’t do this,” he said, shaking his head. “I can’t stand between you and your child.”

Dean looked back at him but didn’t try to pull him closer. “You’re not… Lyddie—when she told me, I did the only thing I could think of, you know? I asked her to marry me. That’s what responsible adults do, don’t they?” He let out a bitter chuckle. “Anyway, a couple of months later, she lost it. She wasn’t pregnant anymore.”

“Oh, Dean… I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Thanks… I’d love to say that I hadn’t had time to grow attached to it, but I did. Was really looking forward to being a dad.”

“Is that why you didn’t break up? You were hoping she’d get pregnant again?”

“Not even… it’s because I’m a coward, Cas.” There was a smile on Dean’s face, but it didn’t make him look any less sad. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have asked her to marry me in the first place. I would have offered to help her out in any way she wanted, but getting married isn’t something we should be doing. Especially not now that I’ve gotten to know her. I don’t hate her or anything, but we don’t—we’re not good for each other—and now I’m worried I’ll hurt her if I break things off. I’ve been praying for her to find a reason to dump me for months now.”

Castiel nodded, a concentrated look on his face. “Is this why you’re here with me, then?” he asked. “Are you hoping she’ll find out you cheated and—” The shock on Dean’s face was enough for Castiel to be somewhat reassured.

“No, Jesus! Just told ya I don’t wanna hurt her by breaking up. Don’t you think it’d be worse if she caught me cheating? And with a dude, no less?” As he spoke, Dean sat up and moved toward Castiel, linking their hands together. “I’ll understand if you wanna ask me to leave.”

“Why would I do that? I knew you weren’t single, Dean. Don’t you think it’d be hypocritical of me to resent you for it?”

It was Dean’s turn to shrug, his hand leaving Castiel’s to climb up his arm in a soft caress. “I know I’ll have to end it, I know it… Lyddie and me getting married would be the biggest mistake of our lives. She deserves much better than this.”

Castiel gave Dean a tender smile and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I’m not going to tell you what to do. And if you’re to decide to stay with her, then that’s what you’ll do. I only hope you know that you also deserve better.” He wrapped his arms around Dean and lay down, bringing him down with him. “As long as you want me, I’ll be here. I’ll take all you can give me, Dean. And when you decide that we’re done, then we’re done. You’ll never hear from me again.”


	18. Chapter 18

 

That night, Dean didn’t go back home. And when he had to leave at dawn the next morning, it was with a heavy heart. He made sure he got as much of Castiel he could get before leaving, promising he’d be back after his shift at the garage.

It didn’t matter that Castiel didn’t have to go to work, he never went back to sleep. He did go back to bed with a cup of coffee and his computer, already eager for his lover’s return. He tried to think about what he could make for dinner before remembering about the untouched lasagna in the fridge. He decided against trying to serve it again, worried it could have gone bad after spending so much time under the warmer.

He made a mental inventory of what he had; the garlic bread was in the fridge, wrapped in foil and ready to be warmed, and there was still enough meat sauce for a spaghetti dinner. He had drunk all the wine, but it wouldn’t be a problem to go and buy some more. That and some beer, seeing as Dean seemed to prefer that. And, well, there was still pie and vanilla ice cream if they ever made it to dessert.

What Castiel didn’t have were breakfast foods. Nothing fancy, anyway. And he felt Dean needed a good breakfast to start his day. This and lunches fit for a king.

He spent his day looking up recipes, going to the store, and cooking. He’d chosen things that seemed easy enough and it smelled amazing when Dean came in around six that night. Castiel’s heart swelled when he saw him on the other side of the door holding a duffel bag.

“You don’t mind, do you?” he asked, showing off the bag. “I mean… I just hated having to go back home to shower and change this morning.”

“Of course, I don’t,” Castiel assured Dean, taking the bag to go drop it near the bed, then came back to hug him. “Hello, Dean,” he said before capturing his mouth.

Dean wrapped himself around him, responding eagerly to the kiss. They separated a good five minutes later, breathless.

“Smells awesome,” Dean said, his voice low and raw.

“We’re having spaghetti for dinner.”

“Was talking about you, but the food smells great, too.”

Delighted, Castiel chuckled before kissing his lover again. He then took him by the hand to lead him toward the table. “Dinner’s almost ready,” Castiel said, turning around when Dean stopped.

“Think I should clean up a bit before we eat,” Dean countered. “Unless it’s gonna mess up dinner?”

“Nothing’s messed up, you go and take a bath. All I have left to do is put the garlic bread in the oven and cook the pasta. I’ll do that when you’re done.”

“I won’t be long,” Dean promised with a wink as he went to take his duffle to bring it in the bathroom. While Dean bathed, Castiel opened the bottle of wine and started up the oven so it would at least be warm when Dean came out.

Dean hadn’t lied when he said he’d be quick, coming back out of the bathroom less than ten minutes later wearing plaid pajama pants and a white t-shirt. He came to hug Castiel, the fresh smell of his own body wash filling his nostrils. “You don’t mind that I took your soap, do you? It just smells so good.”

Castiel shook his head, smiling. “You can use whatever you want, I don’t mind. Let me start up dinner and then I’ll go change too.”

It took a couple of minutes for Dean to let Castiel go, peppering his face and neck with tiny kisses until satiated. He went to sit at the table while Castiel put the bread in the oven and placed the pot of water to boil on the stove top, then served him a beer. He had taken a bath only a couple of hours before, so all he needed to do was change.

As he put on his own pajama pants and top, Castiel could feel Dean’s eyes roaming over his body. Still, he stayed with his back turned to him, half shy and half teasing. When he came back to the kitchen part of the studio, Dean grabbed his wrist to pull him closer, manhandling him to sit on his lap.

“If you had curtains on that big window there, we could be naked all the time,” Dean murmured against the shell of Castiel’s ear.

“Not a fan of nudism,” Castiel countered, cheeky. “Although I wouldn’t hate being able to look at your naked body all day long.”

“Sorry, buddy… if I’m naked, you gotta be naked too. Them are the rules,” Dean said before sucking Castiel’s earlobe between his teeth to nibble on it.

“Ugh… hot…”

“You’re hot.”

“No… the water… it’s hot now,” Castiel clarified as he leaned away from Dean’s expert mouth. He looked at him, biting at his lower lip as he wondered if he could come just from having his ear sucked on. He got off of Dean, blushing furiously and with his pants slightly tented.

Dean let him go, his gaze never leaving him as he worked on dinner. Except for the five minutes it took him to put up one of Castiel’s old sheets over the window. It was sheer enough to let the light in, yet opaque enough for them to have a semblance of privacy.

Castiel put the plates and bread on the table twenty minutes later, then served himself a glass of wine while he gave Dean another beer. Only then did he dare look him in the eye and he instantly regretted it. The hunger he read in there had nothing to do with what had been placed on the table.

“Dean… we have to eat,” Castiel said, not sounding as convincing as he’d hoped. At the same moment, Dean’s belly rumbled, cutting through the thick fog of lust. He nodded, chuckling.

“Really looks amazing, Cas… thank you,” he said, twirling his fork in the pasta before shoving an enormous nest of noodles in his mouth. Castiel couldn’t help but smirk when he saw him hardly chew before swallowing, already working to fill his fork with another mouthful.

“I’d rather you didn’t choke to death, Dean,” Castiel said before taking his first bite. He chewed slowly as he grabbed himself a piece of warm garlic bread. “I’ll still fuck you after this,” he added, proud to see Dean go crimson red. He coughed a bit, chugging half of his beer to help the food go down.

Before Dean could try and protest, Castiel leaned forward and winked. “Don’t worry, I’m not saying I want to top. I’m a natural bottom,” he said before tearing another piece of bread to bite on it. “I’ll let you ravage me after dinner… is that better?”

Dean could only nod, this time twirling a reasonable amount of spaghetti on his fork. And even though he seemed to pace himself, he was done with his meal quicker than he should have, leaving Castiel with half his plate still full. He had eaten a lot of the bread, and while cooking earlier he’d managed to eat more than he should have.

He pushed his plate aside, Dean’s eyes widening as he did. “You’re not eating more than that?”

“I had enough. Spent the whole day snacking,” he admitted. “There’s dessert,” he then said, very much aware that Dean wouldn’t want any, no matter how much he loved pie. “Apple pie _à la mode_?”

There were no hesitations when Dean got up, pushing the chair backward as he did. He only needed three steps to be next to Castiel and pull him to his feet. He maneuvered Castiel’s arms around his neck then grabbed at his thighs to haul him up. Castiel wrapped his legs around him, holding himself up while Dean sucked a bruise on his neck, bringing them both toward the bed.

They fell together on it, a lot like they did the night before.

“How do you want me?” Castiel asked, breathy.

Dean licked his lips, his eyes dark with lust. “Naked, with your ass up… I wanna open you with my tongue.”

Castiel nearly choked. He took his clothes off in record time then moved on all fours, trembling he was so eager. When Dean spread his cheeks apart, Castiel sucked in a breath, letting his head fall on the pillow. And when Dean’s tongue teased his hole, he moaned, his fists clenched in the comforter.

“Dean… fuck!” he said, moaning even louder when the tongue passed the rim.

Soon, Dean was opening him up with two fingers and his tongue, Castiel glistening with sweat. And when Dean brushed his prostate, he almost came, grabbing himself so he wouldn’t blow his load too soon.

“Fuck me, Dean!” he begged, almost about to start sobbing he was so close. “I want to come with you in me… and if you—aaah!”

The tongue and fingers had already been replaced with Dean’s dick, making him cry out when his lover slowly bottomed out. The next part didn’t last all that long, Castiel coming not two minutes later thanks to Dean ramming into his prostate without respite.

This time, Dean didn’t come as quickly as he’d done before, pistoning into Castiel and still catching onto his prostate, making fireworks explode in his belly. As Dean gave one last pump of his hips, groaning as he stilled in his ass, Castiel found himself struck with a second orgasm. He felt as if he’d gone blind for a second as he slumped on the mattress, Dean still buried deep inside him.

“Fuck! Shit! Dean!” he screamed this time, the light touch of the bedding on his dick making him squeal rather ungracefully. “Off…” he then said, flopping onto his back the second Dean slid out. He closed his eyes, his heart racing as he tried to find his breath again. Something wet and warm grazing his skin startled him.

“Enough…” he mewled, tears ready to spill onto his cheeks.

“Just cleaning you up, Cas,” Dean said, doing a quick job of it. When the washcloth left his skin, Castiel forced his eyes open to see Dean going into the bathroom. His heart sped again at the sight of him naked, sweaty and flushed red.

“You’re amazing,” he said with a croak in his voice. Dean looked over his shoulder to wink as he wiped himself clean before coming back to bed.

“Maybe we should take this off,” he said, pointing at the wet patch where Castiel had come. Castiel groaned as he got off the bed, letting Dean pull the comforter off before sliding in the satin sheets. Dean chuckled as he joined him.

“I see you cleaned the sheets today?” he said, lying on his back and beckoning Castiel to lie against him, his head on his chest. “They were pretty dirty after last night.”

“They were, but you look so good in them. I need to buy another set just so we’re never stuck without satin sheets for you to lie on.”

Dean smiled, closing his eyes as he kissed Castiel on the forehead. “Get blue ones to match your eyes and you got yourself a deal.”


	19. Chapter 19

 

The whole first week of Castiel’s vacation was pretty much a repetition of that first day, Dean going to work each morning only to come back to Castiel’s apartment, which smelled heavenly.

In his whole life, never had been Castiel into cooking or baking. Instead of the canned soups, easy sandwiches, and bagged snacks he’d grown accustomed to, he experimented as much as he could. He also found the courage to go and bug his landlord, Mr. Donatello, to finally do as he’d promised years ago and have a shower installed in his apartment.

It didn’t happen before the following Friday, but it still happened and Castiel couldn’t have been prouder, showing it to Dean when he came back from work that evening.

“What? Did you do this?” Dean asked when he saw the brand new set up in the bathroom, clearly impressed. He grazed his fingers over the mossy green plastic curtain, making the metal rings rattle.

“I wish… no, I had Mr. Donatello keep good on his promise.”

“Did you try it?”

Castiel shook his head. “I thought we could try it together.”

Dean clucked his tongue. “Believe me, Cas… shower sex is already complicated when you have a wall to hold onto, there’s no way I’m trying in this.” He took Castiel in his arms to hug and kiss him. “I won’t say no to bath sex, though.”

Castiel shivered as he thought back to that fantasy he had when he fucked himself on his toy the last time. “I would love that, but I really want to try the shower.”

“You think we can keep it PG if we try?”

Castiel pulled his t-shirt over his head. “Is you on your knees to blow me considered PG?” he said as he dropped his pants.

Dean visibly swallowed when he noticed Castiel’s absence of underwear. He unzipped his coveralls as he answered. “Definitely not PG,” he only said, stepping out of his work clothes to take the rest off while Castiel turned on the water. “We’ll just have to be careful, I guess.”

They took turns blowing each other under the spray, Castiel almost falling over when he came inside of Dean’s eager mouth. Once sated, they washed each other, keeping the touching to a minimum as they ravaged each other’s mouths.

They dried each other with big fluffy towels – Castiel had bought them earlier in the week, convincing himself that towels were an investment – their mouths hardly ever being apart.

“I think we should go out,” Dean said when they were dry and wondering about staying naked or putting on PJs. “You know… out there…” he said, wiggling his fingers toward the door.

“Like a date?”

Dean shrugged, a grin on his face. “Why not? We’ve never been on a date. Not really.”

Castiel’s expression closed off, thinking back to that time Dean didn’t even acknowledge they were friends. “You’d wanna be seen with me?” he asked, hating how small his voice sounded.

“I mean, there’s always a chance we could meet someone that knows Lydia…” Dean looked pensive for a moment, then he grinned again. “There’s a place we can go where nobody will care.”

“And where is that?”

Dean shook his head and came in to kiss him soundly on the mouth. “Get dressed… jeans are fine. I’ll make a couple of calls.”

Castiel looked at Dean through squinted eyes as he got gently pushed out of the bathroom and the door closed in his face. He was tempted to try and listen in, but decided against it, going to his closet to look through the little clothes he had instead. Dean had said Castiel could wear jeans, but he didn’t have any. He pulled one of his old pair of dress pants, hoping it’d be good enough. He paired it with one of his usual white – and oversized – button-downs.

He was on the bed putting his socks on when Dean came out. He had their clothes in his arms, leaving them in a heap near the bed. “Told you, Cas… jeans are good, we aren’t going anywhere fancy.”

“I—I don’t have jeans,” he said, contrite. “It’s this or pajama pants, Dean.”

“Who doesn’t have jeans?” Dean asked, not waiting for an answer before going through his duffel bag. He took out a pair that he shucked at Castiel. “We’re pretty much the same size… wear those.” He didn’t let Castiel refuse, now going through the dresser to find a different top. He let out a victorious cry when he found a faded Pink Floyd t-shirt.

“Dean, that’s too small. I wore that in college.”

Dean turned to see Castiel had already put the jeans on. He licked his lips, pleased by the sight. “Try it on, I’ll tell you if it works or not.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, but still caught the T-shirt Dean had thrown at him, grunting as he put it on. He scoffed at how tight it was, worried the seams would tear the second he moved.

“Damn, you’re sexy,” Dean said as he finished getting dressed. “How in the world did I get so lucky?”

“I can’t wear this.” Castiel went to take the shirt off, but Dean’s hands fell on him.

“It’s fine, Cas. It’s perfect. You gotta stop hiding, man.”

It didn’t matter that he wanted to revel in Dean complimenting him, Castiel still couldn’t help the panic that rose at the idea of going out like this. “I can’t Dean—it’s just—it’s too tight.”

Castiel’s shallow breathing was enough for Dean to understand.

“Okay, okay, I get it… no tight shirts. Can I help you take it off?” he asked, not touching him anymore. Castiel nodded. “I’m sorry, Babe… didn’t think it’d be that bad. See? It’s off now. Let’s go with the white shirt.” Dean gently helped him put it back on, fastening the buttons for him. Once done, he grazed his fingers over Castiel’s stubbled jaw. “We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to. We can stay here and call for pizza, watch a movie. Anything you want.”

With his breathing almost all the way back to normal, Castiel shook his head, wrapping his hand over Dean’s. “I’ll be okay. I want to go out, I really do,” he assured him before kissing his lips. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t worry about it, Cas. I’m just glad you’re okay. You are, right? If you’d rather wear your own pants, I—”

Castiel shook his head again, a small smile on his lips. “The jean’s are nice, they’re comfortable. Thank you for lending them to me.”

“My pleasure, you look awesome in them.” He quirked an eyebrow, looking at Castiel up and down. “Say… how do you feel about rolled-up sleeves? Can you do this, or…?”

Doing much better now, Castiel rolled his eyes and smirked. “I can do rolled-up sleeves,” he said, but before he could do it, Dean batted his hand away.

“Let me.”

Castiel didn’t object, letting his eyes wander all over Dean’s features as he worked on his sleeves; his tanned skin, the myriad of freckles, the impossibly long lashes, the dimples, his scrumptious lips… when Dean lifted his green eyes to look at him, Castiel’s heart ceased.

“How are you this beautiful?” he said in a murmur. “I must have done something amazing in a past life to be gifted with even five minutes with someone like you.” His heart swelled when he saw Dean’s cheeks grow warm. That was something he’d never get over: Dean always being so surprised to be told he was handsome or good.

“I so don’t deserve you,” Dean said, not much louder before joining their mouths together. He leaned back, his eyes now brimming with tears. “Why didn’t I meet you before… before?”

Instead of trying to find some kind of vapid answer, Castiel wrapped himself around Dean, hugging him as strongly as he could. They had only two weeks left to spend together, seeing Lydia would be coming back early January. It still meant that they’d be able to spend both Christmas and New Year’s together, not that they had made plans to do so.

“So… where are we going?” Castiel asked as he let Dean go.

“It’s a surprise,” Dean said as he pulled Castiel toward the door. He took their coats off the hooks, giving Cas his trench coat. “You really should get a winter coat, Cas. Especially since you take the bus or walk to work. You’ll freeze to death.”

Castiel gave Dean’s fitted leather jacket a pointed look. “When it’s cold, I put a wool sweater underneath. Can you say the same?”

Dean rolled his eyes as he put on his jacket. “I have a car, Cas. I don’t need a warm coat.”

“Until you have to leave your car at the shop.”

They held hand as they walked to the car, keeping their hands together as Dean drove and right up until he parked next to _Harvelle’s_. Castiel gave Dean a shocked look.

“Here? Don’t you know… everybody?”

Dean gave him a warm smile. “I do.”

“So this is not a date, is it? Not really?”

Dean was still smiling when he turned off the engine, his eyes never leaving Castiel’s. “The people in there, they’re my family, Cas. I want you to meet them.”

Castiel tilted his head, confused. “If they’re your family, then they know Lydia. So, again… this is not a date.”

“They hate Lydia,” Dean said, chuckling. “Every single one of them has tried to convince me to dump her at some point or another. Charlie’s gone as far as saying she’s sure Lydia faked her pregnancy so I’d marry her.”

Before Castiel could reiterate his question, Dean kissed his mouth. “Of course, we still should keep things platonic in there,” he then said, a contrite pout on his face. “I’m not much of a PDA type of guy anyway, but I need you to know it has nothing to do with being ashamed of you or anything like that. For many reasons, but mostly because they don’t know about… hmm… I didn’t have to do any kind of coming out before now. Well, I did tell my brother and Charlie about us, they know… they’re very curious to meet you.”

“They don’t mind? Either that you’re sleeping with a guy or that you’re cheating on your fiancée?”

“Charlie’s gay, she couldn’t care less that I’ve gotten with a guy. Sam, well… he was surprised, but he doesn’t mind either. And I’m sure nobody I know would care all that much… what won’t fly with most of them is the cheating thing. The principle of it, not because it’s Lyddie.” Dean gave him another kiss, keeping their lips pressed together a little while longer this time. “I’ll break up with Lydia the minute she’s back, though. You know that, right?”

“I don’t know that, no,” Castiel said. “And I’d never dare assume that you would. You’re not doing this solely for me, though, are you?” And even though he’d asked, Castiel kind of hoped that Dean would be doing this for him.

“I’d be lying if I said that you don’t have anything to do with it,” Dean said with a shrug. “I think it’s more like you’ve given me the courage I needed to do something about it. Well… to do something about it when she comes back home, that is. I’ll at least let her have some fun for the Holidays before I go and mess everything up.”


	20. Chapter 20

 

“You again! What are you doing with this idiot?” Jo said when she spotted Castiel coming in behind Dean.

“Real classy, Jo!” Dean answered as he grabbed her in a bear hug. When he pivoted her in his arms to face Castiel, she had an aggravated look on her face.

“Lemme go, you big brute,” she said as she tried to get out of his hold.

“Not until you meet my friend… Castiel, meet Joanna Beth Harvelle, the waitress with the pottiest mouth this side of Kansas!”

Dean let out an exaggerated yelp when Jo kicked him in the shin.

“I know him, we’re old pals,” she said as she offered Castiel her hand to shake. “He’s a classy motherfucker who drinks wine,” she added with a wink. “So, you guys have been friends long or…?”

Dean came to stand next to Castiel. “Nah… Cas found my wallet the other day and he was nice enough to give it back to me.”

“Huh. Cute and honest! That’s quite the package if you ask me. Say Cas, you got a sister you could introduce me to?”

Castiel felt himself blush at Jo saying he was honest. He swallowed and shook his head, ignoring Dean chuckling beside him.

“Come on, let’s go meet more of my people,” Dean said before Jo could say anything else, guiding Castiel with a soft hand on his back. They went to stand at the end of the bar, Dean waving at the same barmaid he’d seen before. “Ellen!” he called.

She lifted a finger as she poured a brown liquid in a tumbler. She slid it over to the same trucker-heat-wearing man Castiel had seen the last time before coming to see them.

“Hey, you! Been a while!” Ellen said as she came around the bar to hug Dean. “Thought we’d be seeing more of you with your lady being away.”

Dean shrugged, a smile on his face. “I still gotta work, Ellen… can’t go and drink myself silly every night of the week. Your husband wouldn’t appreciate that so much!”

She scoffed at him, pointing at the man she’d just given a drink to. “What do you think he does here every night?”

“To hell with you, Ellen… you’re prob’ly the reason I drink the way I do.”

Castiel glanced back at the man now glaring at Ellen, only now recognizing him from the picture he’d seen on Dean’s job’s website. He turned his attention back to Ellen and Dean when she spoke again.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” Ellen said, making sure she caught Castiel’s gaze. “He’s gruff but harmless. I know he loves me,” she added, extending a hand toward him. “I remember you… you came in not long ago. Wine drinker?”

Taking her hand in his, Castiel nodded. “That would be me, yes.”

“Didn’t think you knew this one,” she said, pointing her chin at Dean. “Didn’t seem like you did the other day, anyway.”

“We only met a week ago… I found his wallet,” Castiel said, hoping he’d sound more assertive. He caught Dean’s amused gaze on him, prompting his face to grow warm again.

Before anyone could say another word, Sam appeared behind them, wrapping his long arms around both him and Dean. He gave Dean a sloppy kiss on the cheek before turning to Castiel to wink at him.

“Hey, guys,” he said, now squeezing between them. “Hey, Ellen!” he added, going to hug the life out of her. He soon let her go, turning back around to face the two men. “Charlie got us a table,” he said before squeezing between them again to lead the way.

Without a word, Castiel and Dean followed him to a table in the back. Jo was already there, placing a pitcher of beer with mugs and a glass of red wine on the table. She dipped down to kiss the redhead already sitting there before walking away, leaving room for Dean to come and hug the girl. He sat down, enjoining Castiel to sit beside him.

“Cas… this is my brother, Sam,” he said, pointing at the long-haired giant, “and this is my best friend, Charlie.”

 

 

Castiel shook hands with the both of them, still a bit wary of their opinion about his and Dean’s situation. He had a thought for Hannah, wishing she were there with him right now. He only hesitated a second before taking the phone out of his pocket to send Hannah a text, asking her to come and join them. He put the phone on the table in the hope that she would respond.

“Everything okay?” Dean asked in his ear. Castiel looked up at the other two to see they were looking intently at him.

“Yeah… I just sent a text to Hannah, asking if she’d join us. You don’t mind, do you?”

Dean licked his lips and shook his head. “I take that she knows, then? She can be discreet, right?”

“I don’t see why not,” Castiel responded, keeping an eye on his phone, praying it would come alive. It didn’t.

“So it’s you we have to thank for Dean finally considering dumping that evil witch, is it?” Charlie asked, leaning over the table so she wouldn’t have to talk too loud.

“Charlie!” Dean objected, glaring at her. “I know you don’t like Lydia, but there’s no need to be mean, all right?”

Charlie had the decency to blush a bit, even though she rolled her eyes at her friend. “You know she likes me about as much as I like her, right?”

“You never really did give her a chance.”

“She disapproves of my ‘choice of lifestyle’… she’s a bigot, Dean.” She then smirked, giving Castiel a short glance before looking back at Dean. “Man, I wish I could see her face when you’ll tell her about Cas. Could you film it for me?”

“Charlie, stop… you’re making Castiel uncomfortable,” Sam said, not looking all that amused by the situation. Looking contrite, Charlie turned to Castiel.

“I’m sorry, Castiel. As you can see, I have some issues with Lydia. If you knew her, you’d agree, there’s no doubt about that.”

Castiel gave Charlie an understanding smile. “I know what it is to be protective of the people closest to you. Can’t say much against her, seeing as I’m no better than she is.” His face grew warm again. “I went after Dean even knowing he was spoken for.”

Dean chuckled at that, glancing around. Him coming in to give Castiel a furtive kiss on the cheek left the table speechless. He then shrugged, taking Castiel’s hand to hold it under the table. “I had to,” he only offered as an explanation, making both Sam and Charlie roll their eyes.

“Dean tells me you’re an undertaker?” Charlie said between sips of beers.

“Not really, no… I’m a mortuary makeup artist.” Like any time he had to talk about his job, Castiel felt the anguish thrumming under his skin. His nerves started to ease when he saw no disgust in Charlie’s or Sam’s face, just something akin to interest.

Sam spoke next. “How did you get into that? I mean, is this a family business kinda thing?”

“Not a family thing, no. I just always had an interest, I guess.” Castiel made sure to keep his tone even, not ready to divulge how his mother’s passing when he was six years old probably had a lot to do with it. “Went into Mortuary Science in college, fell in love with the cosmetic aspects of it… there’s something quite gratifying in making sure people look their best for that last time their loved ones see them.”

“I’ll admit, I never really thought of that aspect of the job,” Sam offered, pensive.

“Not many do, and that’s fine. Death is not something most are inclined to think about in the first place.”

“Not that it’s not interesting,” Dean said, a watchful eye on his brother, “but I think we should talk about something a little less… grim?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

“Don’t mind him, Castiel. He’s just worried I’ll go into a panic attack over that stuff.” Sam looked back at his brother, smiling. “I appreciate your concern, Dean, but I haven’t had those in years. Talking about death isn’t gonna trigger me, I promise.”

Dean huffed, letting Castiel’s hand go to cross his arms over his chest. “Still… there has to be other stuff to talk about.”

Charlie leaned over the table once more, a single eyebrow arched high. “Here’s a new subject for you… how’s the sex?” she asked, making Castiel choke on his sip of wine while Dean threw his head back in laughter. Horrified, Castiel could only watch as Dean leaned toward her, a similar look on his face.

“It’s amazing! I know you’re not into dicks, but you should see his. I’m telling you, it’s—”

“Okay, enough!” Sam said, putting his hands over his ears. Dean laughed even harder this time, then high fived Charlie’s awaiting hand. “You guys are the worst,” Sam added, scowling at the both of them.

“What’s so funny? I wanna know!” Jo said as she came to stand next to her better half. Charlie sent a pleading gaze toward Dean who just gave her a discreet shake of the head back; no telling the girlfriend about him and Castiel, mostly because she would no doubt tell Ellen, who then would tell Bobby, and Dean would never hear the end of it.

“If you think I haven’t seen that, you got another thing coming, Red,” Jo said, wrapping a warm hand over the back of Charlie’s neck. She leaned down, making sure to look at Dean in the eye as she spoke to Charlie. “Can’t wait to do all I can to make you talk tonight,” she said, kissing her girlfriend on the cheek before going back to work.

Dean smirked, waiting for Jo to be far enough to speak. “You think you can hold it in until I’ve talked to Lyddie?”

Charlie scowled at him. “Now wish you hadn’t told me anything,” she said, pouting.

“You’re my best friend, Charlie… of course, I had to tell you.” He held his fist over the table. “Bros before hoes, right?” he said, making her roll her eyes.

“Did you just call Jo a hoe?” Sam said, far too amused for his own good.

“Shut up, Sammy! Charlie? Bros before hoes?”

She glared at him. “We haven’t done this since senior year, Dean. Quit being such a child!”

Dean tilted his head, smirking as he wiggled his fist in the air. “Come on… for the good old days!”

Charlie huffed, uncrossing her arms, still glaring at her friend. “My Christmas gift better be awesome, Winchester,” she said as he made a fist to bump it with Dean’s. “Bros before hoes!”


	21. Chapter 21

 

It was a text coming in that woke Castiel up the next morning. He blinked as he sat up, confused to be alone and for the room to be so bright already. He sighed, soon remembering that Dean had gone to work earlier that morning, kissing him before leaving at the crack of dawn.

He yawned noisily, stretching his arms over his head, before grabbing the phone from the bedside table. He smiled when he saw the text was from Hannah, swiping the screen to call her instead of texting back.

“I don’t have much time, I’m almost at work.”

Castiel rolled his eyes, wondering why she had even texted him, then. “Can you call me on your lunch break?” he said. “Sucks that you weren’t there last night. I met some of Dean’s friends and family. Nice people all around.”

The noise Hannah made could have been a huff or just ragged breathing due to her walking to work. Castiel didn’t ask. “So what, this thing’s official, now? You got him to dump his girlfriend for you?”

“No… it’s… it’s complicated.”

“Look, I’m here… I’ll call you later, all right?”

Castiel didn’t have time to agree before the line went dead. As he went to start up the coffee machine, he started wondering if Hannah could be mad at him. He shook the thought away, pretty sure he hadn’t done anything to make her angry. Apart from taking a vacation from work, maybe…

Only once seated at the table with a fresh cup of coffee did the idea form in his mind; he’d invite Hannah to dinner so she and Dean could get to know each other. Excited by the idea, he went to make a quick inventory of what was left in the fridge. He had all he needed to make chicken fried rice, something he knew Hannah really liked.

Even though Dean hadn’t given him a heads up the previous evening, he still sent him a text saying he’d be inviting Hannah for dinner. He didn’t wait for him to answer before going around the apartment to make sure it’d be nice enough for guests. He was mopping the kitchen floor when his phone rang. He looked up at the clock to see it was half past noon already.

“Hey, Hannah,” Castiel said when he answered. “Thanks for calling back.”

“Of course,” she only said.

“So, I’m making chicken fried rice tonight… wanna come to dinner?”

“What? Your boyfriend’s busy?”

“Not at all. I want you to have dinner with us. I’d like you to meet him.”

“Why?”

And okay, now Cas knew Hannah was mad at him. He just couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

“What’s going on, Hannah? Did I do or say something wrong? You really sound angry at me.”

She huffed. “I haven’t seen you all week, Cas… it’s like… it’s like you cast me aside or something.”

Castiel swallowed down the urge to respond in the same clipped manner that she just did. “Not to be an ass, Hannah, but we hardly ever see each other outside work anyway. I mean, I miss you too, but it’s not like I’m never coming back.”

“We’re best friends, Cas, not just colleagues. And friends, they hang out together… I haven’t heard from you since you got with that guy.”

“Hannah… Dean and me, we don’t have a lot of time left together. Still, I’m sorry, okay? I never wanted to ignore you or anything. It’s just been… intense.” He sighed. “Look, I texted you last night so you’d come and join us.”

“I was sleeping.”

“That’s fine, but now I’d really like for you to come and have dinner with us. As you said, you’re my best friend, Hannah. I may be a bit infatuated with Dean at the moment, but I’d still love to see you. Please?”

“I don’t know… chicken fried rice, you said?”

A tiny smile crept on Castiel lips. “I did…”

“The authentic kind, right?”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way. Can we expect you here around five?”

“All right, I’ll be there. Do you need me to bring anything?”

“Just your amazing self, Hannah… we’ll see you later!”

Castiel hung up, glad he’d been able to convince her to come over. He knew she had a tendency of being a bit prissy at times, and he knew her enough to know she wholeheartedly disagreed with his relationship with Dean. Not because she’d rather he’d be in a relationship with her, although he suspected that she did, but because she found it morally objectionable.

And if he were honest with himself, Castiel would have agreed with her had he not been the one in this situation. He knew it was highly hypocritical, yet he couldn’t find himself to care all that much. Not when he got to fall asleep and wake up in the arms of a man such as Dean Winchester. Something he intended to do for as long as he could, consequences be damned.

When Dean came back to the apartment after his shift, he was greeted by pop music playing loudly and Castiel dancing as he worked his magic on his cutting board.

“Hey, Babe,” he said, startling Castiel when he came to wrap his arms around his waist.

“Shouldn’t do this when I’m wielding a knife, Dean. Could have stabbed you.”

“I’m not worried. You wouldn’t hurt a fly, let alone a stab a human being.”

Castiel sighed, leaning his back along Dean’s front. “How was your day? Did you get my text?”

Dean took the knife out of Castiel’s hand to put it on the countertop, then turned him around so they’d be facing. He kissed him soundly before responding.

“My day was hella long and busy, but yeah, I got your text. Sorry, should have taken the time to answer.”

“Don’t worry about it… so, it’s okay? Having dinner with Hannah?”

“Of course, it’s okay. She’s your best friend, ain’t she?”

“She is,” Castiel said, leaning up to kiss Dean again, wrapping his arms around his neck. “How do you feel about chicken fried rice?”

Dean shrugged, dipping down to latch his mouth where Castiel’s shoulder and neck met. “It’s good,” he mumbled, now trying to suck a bruise on his skin. “But you’re better…”

Castiel chuckled, carding a hand in Dean’s hair. He inhaled deeply, the hints of oil and metal strongly woven in Dean’s own essence. He scrunched his nose, leaning back. “You smell,” he said, making Dean arch an eyebrow at him.

“B.O.?”

“No… you smell like a garage… I mean, I don’t mind, it’s just—”

“I’m a mechanic, so it’s only fitting, I guess.” Dean kissed him again before moving away. “I’ll go take a shower, then. Gotta smell nice for our guest, don’t we?”

Castiel waited for Dean to have disappeared in the bathroom to go back to chopping up vegetables. And when Dean came back out only wearing a towel, Castiel had to stop himself from going over there and ravage him. He kept preparing everything so he’d only have to put everything in the wok once Hannah would be there.

It was less than an hour later when she knocked on the door. Dean answered, a wide grin on his face.

“Hannah!” he said, welcoming her inside. “So happy to finally meet you,” he said, going for a hug, but getting offered a bottle of rosé instead. “Oh… thanks, you didn’t have to—”

“I’m sorry, I’m not a hugger,” Hannah said. Dean couldn’t tell if the red in her cheeks stemmed from the cold outside or embarrassment. He decided not to dwell on it and went to put the wine on the table while she took off her boots and coat. Like he chose not to comment on the fact that she made a beeline to Castiel and hugged him. Maybe she just didn’t like to hug strangers, which he could understand.

“So… how hungry are you?” Castiel asked Hannah as she sat at the table.

“You have no idea. Barely had time for lunch today.”

Castiel smiled as he went back to the stove to finish preparing dinner. Dean sat next to her, taking the bottle to open it. “Same here,” he said as he worked on the cork. “Couldn’t wait for this day to be over, I won’t lie.” Hannah didn’t respond, only nodded, her eyes fixated on Castiel as he handled the wok.

“So you do the same work as Cas? You put makeup on dead folks?” Dean tried, cringing inwardly when he saw Hannah’s lips pinch.

“Mortuary cosmetician is far more proper,” she said, giving him a quick glance. Then she was looking at Castiel again, who had kept his back turned to them. “Do you need help?” she asked, to which Castiel only shook his head, smiling at her over his shoulder. She slumped on her chair before deciding to finally pay real attention to Dean.

“You’re a mechanic?” she asked. “How’s that working for you?”

“Great. I’ve always loved tinkering with stuff, putting apart my toys to try and put them back together. Was lucky enough to wound up being paid to keep doing it.”

“I see… is that why you’re destroying your relationship? I mean, you don’t think you’ll be able to salvage that after…” she didn’t finish her thought, only waving between him and Castiel.

“Hannah!” Castiel said, his tone a warning one. “I didn’t invite you here so you’d go all preachy on us, all right? We’re adults, we know what we’re doing.”

“I’m sorry, I’m just trying to make conversation,” she said with a shrug, then turned to Dean. “And I’m a bit curious, I won’t lie. I mean… how do you sleep at night?”

A clattering noise was heard, making Hannah jump in her skin. Dean looked up at Castiel who had taken the wok off the stovetop and turned around. He sent him a pointed gaze, hoping he’d understand to let Dean handle this himself.

“I know this situation sucks ass, Hannah, I really do. I’ve never cheated on anyone my whole life.” As he spoke, Dean could see the doubt in Hannah’s eyes, but he didn’t let it discourage him. “You don’t have to believe me, but you gotta believe that I don’t wanna hurt Cas, okay? Just like I don’t wanna hurt Lyddie and fuck up her Holidays at her folks’ by dumping her on the phone right before Christmas. You know what I mean? She deserves that I at least end things face to face.”

Hannah rolled her eyes but still nodded.

“I also could have waited to get with Cas, but—” He looked up, unable to stifle the grin that crept onto his face. “It’s just one of those things where waiting wasn’t an option. It’s bad, I know, we both know it, but it’s too late now. Do you think we can get past this?” he asked, holding out a hand for Hannah to shake.

She seemed to be debating her options for a minute, then grabbed Dean’s hand to shake it. As she did, she made sure to look him in the eye. “I better not learn that you’re full of shit, you hear me? If you hurt Cas, I swear I’ll—”

“Who’s hungry?” Castiel hollered as he placed the hot wok on a trinket in the middle of the table, cutting Hannah off. He made sure to give her a stern look as he filled her plate with the rice. She never finished her warning to Dean, choosing instead to shovel a humongous bite of rice into her mouth, moaning around it.

Castiel sent Dean a grateful gaze as he served him, glad he’d been able to talk her down. If only it could have lasted…


	22. Chapter 22

 

Castiel had never missed a Sunday dinner at his father’s, and he wasn’t about to start now. Even if the previous evening ended with Hannah being mad at him and leaving the apartment before they even got to dessert. Even if Dean had declined to go with him, professing that he would rather jam a hot fire poker in his eye than have to sit at Naomi’s dinner table again.

Not that he didn’t agree with him, on some level. Still, Naomi was his father’s wife and Castiel knew that if he wanted to keep Chuck and Samandriel in his life, he couldn’t shut her out. In going to dinner, it at least meant that he got to see them, even just a little bit.

“Your friend’s not with you today? Tell me, it’s not over already, is it?” Naomi said in a falsely concerned tone when she greeted him at the door.

Castiel shook his head, ignoring the friend thing as he took off his trench coat, wool sweater, and boots. “He has to work today,” he offered, to which she raised an eyebrow.

“He does? Oh my, who in the name works on Sundays? And in the evening, too…”

“Many people do, Naomi,” Castiel said as he followed her to the dining room.

“That’s what happens when you don’t go to college. You get stuck in lower end jobs with minimum wages. He’s still young, he could still change the course of his life. You should tell him that.”

Clenching his fists on his sides, Castiel faced Naomi to respond, his tone even but firm. “Dean went to college, Naomi… he majored in mechanical engineering. He’s brilliant and if he chose to work on cars, it’s because he loves it. Can you say the same? Can you honestly tell me that calling up people to try and sell them life insurance is a passion for you?”

Although visibly shaken by Castiel confronting her, Naomi lifted her chin, not about to give him the satisfaction. “Well, I didn’t know that… again, I know close to nothing about this man,” she answered before disappearing in the kitchen.

Castiel had just sat at his usual place when Chuck came in to sit with him. He said hello before grabbing the remote on the hutch behind him to set the TV where he wanted it. For once, Castiel would have preferred that Naomi allowed him to have the sound on rather than the captions. Some kind of background noise might have helped make things a little more comfortable, didn’t matter that it would be sports commentators and roaring spectators.

Things lit up when Samandriel joined them in the dining room. He came to hug Castiel before going to sit at his usual place.

“Where’s Dean?” were the first words out of his mouth, and his genuinely concerned tone made Castiel’s heart grow two sizes bigger.

“He had to work today. He sends his regards,” he said, adding “He sends his regards to everyone,” while keeping an eye on his father. As expected, Chuck barely looked away from the TV to nod at him, leaving Samandriel to entertain his step-brother.

“Do you have the car with you? It’s so nice!”

Castiel chuckled. “Dean doesn’t let anyone drive his car… she’s much more than a car to him, she’s more like his baby.”

Samandriel shrugged. “Even babies sometimes go with other people. Like, they get babysitters. You could ask to babysit his car and then we could go places.” He shrugged again. “Dean can also be there, I don’t mind. But then you wouldn’t be babysitting the car.”

“Castiel doesn’t have his driver’s license, Honey,” Naomi intervened as she came in with a fancy tureen filled with chili, putting it in the middle of the table. She disappeared again in the kitchen, leaving Castiel to wish he’d stayed home with Dean after all. He had Naomi’s chili before and it was one of the blandest things he had ever put in his mouth.

She came back a second later with a bag of sliced bread and a tub of margarine she put next to the dish before sitting down. If he didn’t know any better, Castiel could have believed Naomi had decided to make the least possible effort for Sunday dinner.

As Naomi went around the table to ladle chili in everyone’s bowls, Castiel felt himself blush. He may not be all that fond of her, she could still be having a bad day. She could have been tired and making chili and serving it with sliced bread could be all she had the energy to do.

As she finished serving everyone, Castiel observed her, trying to find any clue of how she may be feeling, only to find her not looking any different. Then again, would he even notice if she was not doing well?

He thanked her, grabbing a piece of bread from the bag and dipping it in the chili without putting any margarine on. As expected, it didn’t taste like much, making him wonder why anyone would bother to make chili if there wasn’t going to be any heat to it.

They ate in silence, even Samandriel not being his peppy self, thanks to his mother asking him to keep it down. It was enough for Castiel to turn to her, genuinely concerned this time.

“Are you feeling okay, Naomi?” he asked, hoping she wouldn’t ask him why he had asked.

She looked up at him, giving him a thin-lipped smile. “I’m feeling good, Sweetheart, thank you for asking. Just a little bit tired, is all.”

Castiel only nodded, knowing that trying to insist wouldn’t do any good; they weren’t close and they never would be. Selfishly, he relished in the fact that Naomi being tired would give him the best of excuses to go back home early. He turned to his father, hoping he would be able to pull more than two words from him before he had to go back home.

“How about you, Dad? How are you doing? Everything okay?”

Chuck blinked, only glancing at Castiel as he responded. “Huh? Yes, of course. You?”

“I’m good… being on vacation is quite nice, hadn’t done that in a long time,” he said, but Chuck wasn’t really listening, whatever happening on TV apparently too exciting to care about anything else. He shook his head, turning his attention back to the only person worth talking to, in his opinion.

“And how’s school, Samandriel?”

“School’s out, Castiel. It’s the Holidays,” he said, giggling until he started frowning. “But I still have homework,” he added.

“You do? What kind of homework did those mean teachers give you?”

“I have to read a whole book. I’m supposed to be on vacation.”

“Reading is important, Honey,” Naomi said, her eyes on her bowl.

“Your mom’s right, Samandriel. Reading is really important. I love to read, I do it very often.”

“Without people telling you to?”

Castiel chuckled. “It’s easier to like something when you don’t have to do it.”

“Obligations don’t have to be a displeasure, Castiel,” Naomi said, her tone clipped. “Meeting people’s expectations can be quite rewarding, Samandriel. And those really special people, like you, can very easily exceed said expectations.” She gave Castiel a quick glance. “Not everyone has it in them to be the best that they can be.”

The words fell from Castiel’s lips before he could stop them. “Maybe I should have joined the army, then.” He swallowed, worried about how she would take it.

“The army is a great option for many people, Castiel. You’re lucky to have had Chuck to pay for your college education, I hope you know that. Not the most impressive degree you could have gotten, but I guess it’s better than none at all.” She turned back to her son, a soft smile on her lips. “You don’t have to worry, my son. You also will have your education paid for, even if we have to sell the house to do it,” she assured him.

Dumbfounded, Castiel could only look at her with his mouth agape. Did she just say she’d be willing to sell his father’s house, his house, to pay for Samandriel’s education?

“You wouldn’t dare,” he said after a while. “This is my father’s house, Naomi. I was born here, my mom—”

“Your father and I, we’re married now, Castiel. What’s mine is his, and the contrary is also true.” She looked around the room, her lips pursed. “I’d rather we sold the house and found one that would truly be ours, but Chuck won’t do it. I’ve made my peace with it, but I will not act as if I’m only a guest in this home.”

“Don’t think you ever acted like a guest,” Castiel countered. “You came in, changed everything, even making sure I wouldn’t want to stay by making me sleep in the office. You drove me out of my own house, Naomi.”

“You decided to move out, I didn’t push you. And anyway, children have to move out at some point.” She let out a disdained huff. “You needed to realize you were an adult, Castiel. It’s called tough love. I couldn’t let you take advantage of your father that way anymore.”

Once more, Castiel found himself speechless, looking at Naomi with his mouth agape.

“And if I’d known you were a homosexual on top of it, I would—I mean—I have a young impressionable son, and—”

“So what? You’re worried Samandriel will catch my gay cooties?”

“I know you people say it’s not how it happens, but I can’t be taking any chances. I mean, when we were young, we didn’t have much of those, just the occasional pervert. Now everyone’s got some sexual issue we’re supposed to embrace as if it were normal.”

Once more, the fists Castiel hid under the table were clenched tight. He could just see himself jumping on Naomi to beat her into a pulp. Instead, he turned to his father, now mostly curious to know if Chuck had the same opinion of him.

“Is that what you think too, Dad?” he asked, his voice tight from the lump in his throat. “Do you think I’m a pervert? That I’ll turn Samandriel gay?” When Chuck only gave him a distracted shrug back, Castiel slammed a fist on the table, startling him.

“Dad! I’m talking to you! Do you agree with Naomi? Is me being gay as much of a problem for you as it is for her?”

This time, Chuck turned his attention wholly to Castiel. He looked a bit like a deer in headlights but still met his gaze.

“Cassie, who you choose to love is your business,” he said, giving his wife some kind of apologetic shrug. “But Naomi is my wife, and Samandriel is her son… if she’d rather not have him being influenced by things she doesn’t agree with, then it’s her prerogative.”

“I know my son, I know he’s not gay, and—”

“He’s only nine years old, Naomi,” Castiel said. “I don’t think sexuality is really a concept for him at this moment.”

“I’m not gay,” Samandriel provided, smiling when his mother gave him a soft nod.

“I know you’re not,” she answered, looking back at Castiel with a satisfied smirk. “I know my son will be a handsome man. What I’m mostly worried about is that you’ll try to ‘turn him’, you and all your homosexual friends.”

When Castiel looked back at his father, it was to see he had gone back to his television. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before getting up.

“I guess I better go home before I turn all of you nice people into raging homosexuals,” he said, not waiting for a response before stomping toward the foyer. He put on his sweater, coat, and boots in record time and when he walked outside, it was without anyone coming to say their goodbyes.


	23. Chapter 23

 

Not finding Dean waiting for him in his apartment managed to anger Castiel even more than he already was. They hadn’t made any plans to do something that evening, seeing as Castiel had gone out, but they hadn’t made plans to not see each other either.

When Dean eventually came back, it was a bit late and he had clearly been drinking. Castiel’s stomach dropped, now convinced Dean could have been driving the Impala while intoxicated.

“Did you drive?” he said before anything else, to which Dean scoffed.

“‘Course not… m’not an idiot,” Dean said, his speech not as affected that Castiel had expected. Maybe he wasn’t as drunk as he thought, then.

“Where were you?”

“ _Harvelle’s,_ ” Dean said as he took his coat and boots off. “Took a taxi,” he added as he came to take Castiel in his arms, who evaded him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing…”

“Bullshit,” Dean said, trying to take Castiel in his arms again, without success. “Would you stop movin’ around? What’s wrong with you?”

“I needed you, all right? I needed you and you weren’t there!”

“I’m here now. What do you need?”

Castiel shook his head, his mouth in a bitter pout. “It’s too late now. I needed you by my side when I was getting attacked by Naomi. I mean, I get it, you hate her, but I needed you. And then you weren’t here when I came back. You left me all alone, Dean!”

The shock was genuine on Dean’s face when he took a couple of steps back with his arms up, placating. “Whoa! Hold your horses there, Cas. You’ve been having dinner with them for years, and now suddenly you can’t handle them on your own? We’ve only just met, dude… never signed up to act as a buffer between you and your fucked up relatives!”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it. I thought you’d be here when I came back, and you weren’t. You went out drinking instead. How chivalrous of you.”

“First of all, you came back earlier than you said you would. Second, I wasn’t gonna stay here twiddling my thumbs while you were out. Now starting to think I should have gone back home rather than coming here.”

Castiel’s lips pursed, his eyes filling with angry tears. “She believes I’ll turn Samandriel gay, Dean. Me and all my homosexual friends! She told me that, to my face, and my dad didn’t even say a thing against it. Worse than that, if she’d known I was gay when they moved in, she would have had my dad kick me out on the very first day.”

“Don’t think your dad would have—”

“He told me that it was her prerogative, Dean. That if me being gay scares her, that it’s her right.”

“Fuck that bitch, then. Don’t go back, is all. And if you ask me, your father’s just as bad as she is, okay? That’s not what a father’s supposed to do. He’s supposed to accept you, and love you, no matter what.”

“What? Like your father accepted and loved you?”

Before now, Castiel had never seen Dean angry. Irritated, yes, but never angry.

“You shut your mouth about my dad, okay? You don’t know shit!”

“Everything I know about your dad, it’s because you told me. You said so yourself, that if he’d still been alive, you never would have dared to ‘explore that side of your sexuality’,” Castiel said, finger-quoting the last part. “So don’t you go and tell me what my dad is supposed to do. At least, he said that he didn’t care who I loved.”

“Why did it take you so long to tell him, then? If he’s so much better than my dad?”

“You know why… and anyway, that’s not the issue here.”

“What is it then, huh? ‘Cause right now, I’m not really sure what it is we’re arguing about.”

Any other day, Castiel would probably have been on his way to a panic attack by now. They were both screaming at each other and that wasn’t something he could usually handle. He was just too mad to care, apparently.

“We’re arguing about the fact that you abandoned me! That when I needed you, that you weren’t there! Mostly we’re arguing about you just standing there, all smug and saying crap about my father.”

“I never said—”

“Castiel? Is everything okay? Do you need me to call the police?” they heard Mr. Donatello yell from the other side of the door. Dean’s mouth popped closed, his gaze hard on Castiel.

“Everything’s fine, Mr. Donatello,” Castiel yelled back, his gaze just as hard on Dean. “We’ll keep it down.”

“Yeah, you better,” the landlord said again. Castiel and Dean didn’t move an inch or say another word until they heard Mr. Donatello’s door close.

It was Dean who spoke first, a good five minutes after the landlord’s interruption.

“Look, Cas, I’m—”

“I think you should go home, Dean,” Castiel said, not looking at him anymore. He hated that his voice was trembling, but he kept going. “Clearly, this thing is just… it’s just too much.”

Dean took a tentative step forward. “What? What is it that’s too much? Us?”

Castiel looked up to meet Dean’s eyes, instantly regretting it. The hurt in there was overwhelming and Castiel had to look away. He couldn’t afford to let himself be affected by it. “Is there really an us, Dean? And until when? Because I’m not going to abandon my father, whatever you say about it.”

The frustration in Dean’s tone was thick. “I never told you to abandon your father, Cas. Where the hell did you get that? And yeah, I kinda thought there was an us. Why do you think I introduced you to my friends, huh? Friends, who I might add, are much nicer than yours.”

“So now you’re attacking my friends?”

“Your friend,” Dean corrected him, accentuating the fact that it wasn’t plural. “I hope you know Hannah’s jealous, right? Pretty sure she’d prefer you give all your lovin’ to her instead of me.”

“Proof that you know nothing about anything, Dean. She’s asexual, she has no carnal interest in me or anyone.”

“Maybe, but can you say the same about a romantic interest?”

Castiel huffed, crossing his arms. “Even if she did have a romantic interest in me, I have none in her and she knows it. The thing is, she’s very… righteous. It’s going to take her a while to get over the fact that you’re cheating on your fiancée, even if it’s with me. She also believes it means you’re a cheater and that you’ll do it to me down the line. She’s protective.”

“I don’t care what she thinks of me, Cas. She was very rude and I’m not all that eager to see her again. Same with Naomi and Chuck, I won’t lie. Your people… they’re awful, Cas!”

“I guess one associates with those similar to them. I did choose to seduce you despite your committed relationship, didn’t I? Guess that means I’m awful, then.”

“There’s nothing I can say that’s gonna make things any better, is there? And yeah, honestly, I’m starting to think this whole thing…” he said, waving a hand between them, “… it’s getting much too complicated for my taste. You’re probably right, there’s nothing here. I’m not about to get out of a relationship with an army general just to get into another one. I know I did nothing wrong here, Cas.”

“Glad to know you’re one of those people who can never be wrong.”

“Oh, believe me, I’ve been plenty wrong in my life, and I’ve owned up to it. All of it! What I won’t do is take the blame for whatever crisis you’re going through right now.” Dean went to put his coat and boots back on. “If you’re ever in a better mood, you can try and call… maybe I’ll answer!”

Dean didn’t look back before leaving, slamming the door behind him. Castiel didn’t move, his eyes on the door and his heart jammed in his throat. His anger started melting, anguish slowly taking its place. He only moved when he started to shake, making his way to the bed to collapse on it, short of breath.

Before long, he had to sit back up, the weight of his clothes too heavy to endure. Once naked, he let himself fall backward on the mattress, letting the air in the apartment cool his heated skin. As he tried to regulate his breathing, he dreamed of weightlessness, wishing there wasn’t even a bed at his back.

It took him a while to start breathing normally again. He rolled over to his side, hiding his face in the pillow that smelled like Dean. He breathed in it, letting the warm and spicy scent fill him up and soothe those ragged edges.

When he opened up his eyes again, the sun was right about to come up. He looked around, confused, then remembered why he was cold, naked, and alone in his bed. He shivered, the idea of never seeing Dean again almost enough to make him go into another panic attack. He sat up, swallowing the lump of anxiety as he did.

This would happen to him a lot before, getting so worked up that nothing made sense anymore. A counselor in high school had even told his father that Castiel had serious anger issues, something Chuck had decided to ignore by saying all teenage boys acted out.

Now, thinking back to how he’d lashed out at Dean, he wondered if he did, indeed, have anger problems. Because now, after calming down and having a bit of sleep, he realized he had been irrational. He’d been mad at Naomi, yes, but there was no reason his anger should have been directed at Dean.

“Shit!” he let out, getting up to go grab the phone in his trench coat. His heart sped up when he found no new notifications, not that it was surprising. He went into the texting app, not ready to talk to Dean just yet. He sent him a single ‘I’m sorry’ with a crying emoji before sliding between the sheets, holding the phone over his heart as he fell back asleep.


	24. Chapter 24

 

The phone buzzing against Castiel’s cheek was what woke him up for a second time that morning. It took him a little too long to realize it wasn’t somebody calling, but rather a text coming in. From Dean.

_Let’s talk about this tonight. I’ll bring dinner._

Relief washed over Castiel. Maybe he hadn’t sabotaged everything after all. He got up, feeling a little better. He went to take a shower, then brought his computer to the kitchen table to browse around as he munched on a breakfast of peanut butter and grape jelly toasts.

When he went to Facebook, he almost choked on his sip of coffee when he saw he had a friend request from Dean. Castiel’s heart started beating furiously and he accepted the request. The next hour was spent by going through everything on Dean’s page, the pictures, the videos, the timeline.

By the end of that very hour, Castiel had accepted invitations from Charlie Bradbury, Sam Winchester, and Jo Harvelle. It was like being granted access to a whole new world. Another hour of browsing later brought on a new friend request, one that left him with his eyes wide and mouth agape.

Lydia Canning.

“Shit…” he muttered, thanking the heavens that he’d always make sure nobody could know when he was online. He shut the computer lid, his whole body warm and tingling. And not the fun kind of tingling.

He shook himself off, refusing to let anxiety cripple him up again today. He went to his dresser to find something to wear, licking his lips when he saw Dean’s jeans on the chair. Castiel had been the last one to wear them, but they still weren’t his. He decided to wear them anyway, biting at his lower lip when he slid them on without bothering with underwear.

He looked at the clock to see it was almost noon; Dean would be home around five thirty, which gave Castiel plenty of time to go and do some Christmas shopping. He had bought his family’s and Hannah’s presents a while ago, but he had Dean in his life now. And he wanted to shower him with gifts, especially after going ballistic on him the previous night.

When he left the apartment, it was _sans_ trench coat; it was sunny and warm enough that his favorite Christmas themed wool sweater brought all the protection Castiel needed. He walked the whole way to the commercial street, about halfway between his and Dean’s place, excited at the thought of finding the perfect gift for him. After a first quick overview of the stores, Castiel went into _Starbucks_ to get some tea and look up Dean’s Facebook page for clues.

Because, to be perfectly honest, Castiel didn’t know all that much about his lover. He blushed over the fact that he could call Dean his lover, a secret smile creeping over his lips. He shook the sexy thoughts away as he looked at Dean’s interests, not surprised to see a bunch of classic rock bands listed there.

What surprised and elated him was to find he had a thing for Kurt Vonnegut. He remembered seeing a box set of the author’s books the last time he went to _Barnes & Noble _ in Kansas City, something he probably wouldn’t have time to do before Christmas. The only way he’d be able to get this in time was to order it online.

He did it on his phone, then went to finish up his shopping before going back home to wait for Dean. He made sure to hide the bags, leaving the one from the sex shop out to bring it in the bathroom. It contained another gift, one he’d bought for himself even though he believed Dean would also appreciate it. He took out the vibrating butt plug out of its packaging to clean it.

His heart beating fast, he turned on the shower. He put the plug and bottle of lube on the shelf before going in to wash. Once clean, he did a quick job of opening himself up, not doing this for immediate pleasure. It took a bit longer than anticipated to comfortably insert the toy and when it was snug in his ass, he turned the hot water off in an attempt to wash the lust away.

The arousal took a bit of time to dwindle, his dick perking up again when Castiel dried himself, then pulled the jeans back on. He ignored it, working on getting used to the plug instead. He walked around the apartment, his breath hitching when the plug brushed over his prostate. He tried to keep his composure as he put everything in the trash before going to sit on the couch, bringing the remote, lube, and his phone with him.

He looked at the time, glad to see Dean should be home soon. As he waited, he couldn’t help but keep his gaze on the butt plug’s remote, tempted to turn the toy on. The sheer thought of that was enough to start diverting the blood back down to his dick. He closed his eyes, trying to use his usual breathing technique to cool himself off.

It probably would have worked if Dean hadn’t come in at that very moment. When he heard the door, Castiel’s eyes shot open, sending Dean a feverish gaze. It was enough to stop him from taking his coat off.

“Cas? Are you okay?” he asked before swallowing loudly when he recognized the lust in Castiel’s darkened eyes.

Castiel could only nod, not trusting his voice at that moment. He licked his lips and crooked his finger at Dean, beckoning him to come to sit next to him. Dean made a quick job of taking off his coat and boots, his own eyes growing darker by the second.

“Shouldn’t we be talking about—”

Dean interrupted himself when Castiel shook his head and gave him the remote.

“What’s this?” he said, to which Castiel only shrugged, pointing at the top button on the device. Dean licked his lips, pretty sure now he knew what he was being asked. “Like this?” he added as he pushed the button.

Castiel’s eyes bugged out, a raspy yelp escaping his lips. “Fuck…” he let out, his foot landing on Dean’s knee when he spread his legs. “More!”

Dean complied, his mouth falling open when pushing the small ‘+’ button made Castiel fall backward and his hips shoot up. “Oooh… jesus… Dean!”

Putting the remote aside, Dean got up to take his pants off before helping Castiel do the same, almost choking on his own tongue when his erect dick sprung out of the jeans, already leaking at the tip.

Taking back the remote, Dean bowed down to take Castiel in his mouth, pleased to hear him moan his name. He braced himself, relaxing his throat for when he’d press the button on the remote again. Didn’t help much, still gagging when Castiel’s hips shot upward.

“Dean!”

Dean let him go with a slurp, the taste of Castiel’s precome sharp on his tongue. “You’re so fucking hot… I wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Do it now… I won’t last… please!”

With an agreeing nod, Dean sat back and turned off the plug. He gave the base a small tug, making Castiel keen, his whole body shivering as he wrapped a hand over his dick, his fingers tight at the base. “Take it out and fill me up, Dean.”

“Be patient, Babe,” Dean said, holding onto Castiel’s knee as he started pulling on the plug delicately. He wiggled it a bit as he pulled, stopping when the plug wouldn’t pass the rim. “You gotta relax a bit,” he said, kissing the inside of Castiel’s thigh.

Castiel nodded, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. “I’m good, just pull.”

“I don’t wanna hurt you, okay?”

Letting out a huff, Castiel swatted Dean’s hand away. Still looking at him intently, he grabbed the base to start pulling, his breath hitching as he wiggled it around, then pulled again. Dean could only watch, now stroking himself to full mast. His eyes never leaving the spectacle before him, he blindly grabbed a condom and the lube from the coffee table to make himself ready.

They both let out a breathy moan when the plug plopped out, Castiel letting it fall to the floor before rising up to come and sit on Dean’s awaiting dick. It didn’t turn out to be the best of ideas, the sofa being far too narrow for a grown man to be comfortable straddling another.

“Bed,” Castiel said to explain to a confused Dean why he was getting off of him.

“No,” Dean countered, sitting up how one normally would on a sofa, both feet planted on the floor. “Hop on.”

Instead of facing him as he had done before, Castiel kicked Dean’s knees apart. He turned around to sink back on him, putting his feet up on Dean’s thighs when he had sunk to the hilt.

“Fuck, Cas…” Dean said under his breath, leaning his forehead on Castiel’s back as he gripped his thighs to help him move up and down.

Castiel turned his head to try and find Dean’s lips. Kissing didn’t seem to be in the cards, only managing to breathe against each other’s mouth more than anything else. Still, neither wanted to change position, already almost over the edge with Dean hammering Castiel’s ass while he jerked himself off to completion.

They both came with a strangled scream, Castiel’s ending is a high pitched squeak he didn’t even bother being shameful for. He let out a shaky breath as he let Dean slide out of him, now straddling his legs to lean back against his chest.

He licked his lips as he took a moment to find his bearings again, linking his hand with the one Dean had splayed on his belly. “I’m sorry,” he said under his breath, keeping his eyes closed.

“I know… m’sorry too,” Dean responded, his lips brushing against Castiel’s temple. “We’re still gonna have to talk ’bout it.”

“I know… later, all right?”

Castiel felt Dean nod in his back before he kissed him on the shoulder. “Later.”


	25. Chapter 25

 

Seeing that Dean woke up at five that morning and that he would have to do it again the next day, Castiel couldn't help be impressed to see Dean still wide awake at close to eleven PM.

They were naked in bed, yet again, a half-eaten pizza between them. It seemed to be becoming some kind of tradition, not that Castiel could find anything wrong with that; he loved pizza.

After it had been delivered, they had found themselves hungry for each other rather than food. This time, they had chosen the bed to move together in what Castiel could only qualify as legitimate lovemaking.

It had been slow, and tender, and most of the time had been Dean rocking inside him, they looked each other in the eye. Then they had held each other for almost an hour, not sleeping but not really awake either. Until Dean’s stomach had grumbled, signifying it was time to eat.

After dropping his unfinished third slice in the box, Castiel’s gaze caught Dean’s. He smiled, a bit contrite. “I’m so sorry I lashed out on you, Dean. You didn’t deserve that.”

Dean shrugged, grabbing himself a fourth slice. “Do you remember everything that happened?”

Even though he had been the one to initiate the discussion, Castiel had to work hard not to get defensive. He took a deep breath before answering. “I do. This wasn’t some sort of black-out thing. I just… I lost control of my emotions. Usually, it’s panic attacks, but you knew that already. Haven’t gotten this angry in over ten years.”

“Do you know why?”

“I told you what Naomi said, didn’t I?”

“Yeah… still can’t believe she said that shit to you.” Dean sighed, not finishing his slice and putting it back in the box. He wiped his hand with a paper napkin before putting the box on the floor. “C’m’here,” he said, lying on the bed and pulling Castiel down with him, the two facing each other. “I’m sorry I said the people in your life were awful. That was uncalled for.”

Castiel shrugged. “You’re not entirely wrong, though. And it’s not like I don’t already know this. Well, Naomi, that’s a given. And my dad, well… I guess we can’t expect our parents to be perfect, but we should expect them to love and accept us. And Hannah, she’s peculiar but I really do love her. When she gets like this, I let her stew in her own juices for a while. She’ll get over it, you’ll see.”

A soft smile appeared on his face. “But then, there’s Samandriel. That kid… he’s honestly the most important person in my life, and I’m not even related to him. Not by blood, anyway.”

“Doesn’t matter that you share blood or not, Cas. Look at me… apart from Sam, there’s nobody in my life I share DNA with. Still, I can honestly say I have the best family in the whole world.”

“Wish my family was as awesome as yours.”

The hand that landed on Castiel’s stubbled jaw was soft and warm. “Guess now would be the perfect time to tell you that you’re invited to Bobby and Ellen’s Christmas dinner. You got nothing planned on the 25th, do you?”

The look Castiel gave Dean through his squinted eyes made him chuckle. “Kinda mentioned to Ellen last night how your family had other plans on Christmas, she told me to invite you.” Before Castiel could say a word against it, Dean kissed him on the lips. “And you can’t say no. She said, and I quote, _tell him he’s not welcomed in my bar ever again if he doesn’t show his face at my home for Christmas_.”

“That’s blackmail,” Castiel said, frowning.

“Welcome to the family, Cas.”

 

 

As Dean leaned in to kiss him some more, Castiel couldn’t help the whirlwind in his mind. He’d have to go back to the store and buy everyone little gifts, yet he knew nothing about most of them. He had Charlie, Jo, and Sam as Facebook friends, but—

His breathing escalated when he remembered about Lydia.

“Hey, hey! You okay?” Dean asked, moving back the second he noticed Castiel seemed to be struggling.

“Yeah, give me—give me a second. I—I have to tell you something,” Castiel said, also leaning back. He took a couple of cleansing breaths then make sure to look Dean in the eye as he spoke. “Lydia—she—she sent me a friend request on Facebook today. Do you think she knows? I mean… why else would she do this? Did someone tell her about us?”

Dean huffed, lying on his back with an arm over his eyes. “Fucking Facebook, man… I hate that shit.” He lifted his arm and turned to meet Castiel’s eyes again. “If Sam, Charlie, and Jo had cooled their engines a bit, Lyddie wouldn’t have noticed that you and I became friends. I mean, just me adding you wouldn’t have made her tick. Those other clowns had to go and add you, and—”

“I’m sorry, Dean. I should not have accepted them. But they’re your friends and—”

“You did nothing wrong, Cas. Unless… you didn’t accept her invitation, did you?”

Eyes wide, Castiel shook his head.

“Good… I mean, it’s not like you guys will ever meet. The day I break up with her—”

“What will you tell her?”

“Huh?”

“When you break up with her, will you tell her about me? About us?”

The light in the room might have been close to nonexistent but Castiel could still see Dean’s cheeks redden. “The only reason I’d do this would be to hurt her. And I don’t wanna do that.”

Castiel nodded. “What about later in time? Would you—would you let me put you as my boyfriend on Facebook?”

When Dean turned on his side to look at him again, holding his head up on his fist, Castiel felt a chill crawl up his spine. “Can you explain to me why people do that? I mean, what’s the point? Who cares who’s dating who?”

Averting his eyes, Castiel shrugged. “I don’t know… everybody does it. Even you did it, didn’t you?”

“Because you think I had a choice in the matter?”

“You could have asked her not to do this if you’re so against it.”

Castiel looked back at him when Dean gently took his chin between his fingers to tilt it. “It’s not that I’m against it, Cas. I just don’t get it. But if you feel the need to do this, then I won’t be a little bitch about it. I might just ask you to wait a bit. For Lydia’s sake.”

“I’m sorry… I’ve never been in the position of announcing anything like this to the world and the idea just makes me so happy. If only Naomi could be on Facebook so I could rub her face in it…”

“Maybe, from time to time, I could go with you to Sunday dinner,” Dean said, falsely blasé about it. “We could make out on their front porch, scandalize the neighbors or something. We could bring the curse of homosexuality upon their home.”

“We definitely could do that,” Castiel said, grinning now. “I mean, Samandriel is already nine years old. If I want to turn him, I better start soon or he will be lost to us.”

They laughed for a bit at the idea, soon coming back in each other’s arm as they waited for sleep to claim them.

“Dean?” Castiel murmured after a while. He started to think Dean had fallen asleep when he stirred a bit to let out an interrogative hum. “Are you out to your family?” he then asked.

“Not really, no… had nothing to be out about until now,” Dean answered, half asleep. “Why?”

“I don't want them to think I influenced you. That I made you gay.”

It didn’t take more than that for Dean’s brain to come back online. “What the hell are you even talking about?”

“It’s enough that I’m stealing you away from your fiancée, the fact that I’m a guy on top of—”

“Cas, you know that’s not how this works, right? You can’t go around and make people gay. Not that I’m gay… not really.”

“I know, but—”

“Look, Babe… I get why you’re worried, but I swear this won’t be an issue for anyone, okay? Like I said before, the biggest problem some may have with this is over the fact that I’m cheating. And that’s on me, it has nothing to do with you.”

“Well, it has a little to do with me.”

“Only ‘cause you’re sexy as fuck. I just don’t plan on telling Ellen or Bobby ’bout that.”

“Or anyone else?”

Dean wrapped himself around Castiel, chuckling. “Yeah, well… I might have already told Charlie how sexy you are. And my brother.”

“Dean!”

“Don’t worry about it. Charlie’s my best friend, so of course, I told her everything about you. As for Sam, let’s just say I love to make the sasquatch squirm.”


	26. Chapter 26

 

The next day, while Dean was at work, Castiel went back to the store to try and find some little knick-knacks for Dean’s family members. Until he decided that he didn’t know enough about anyone to do this. So he bought an assortment of cute boxes and all the necessary ingredients to make sugar cookies and decorate them. Because, as far as he knew, nobody ever disliked cookies, did they?

The only real gift he bought was a box of gourmet chocolates he intended on giving Bobby and Ellen to thank them for the invitation. He could have gone with a bottle of fine alcohol, but since Ellen owned a bar, she probably would appreciate something that wasn’t work related.

He spent Tuesday and Wednesday – Christmas Eve – baking and decorating cookies. When Dean came back from work earlier than usual, Castiel had just finished cleaning up the kitchen and put the chicken to roast in the oven.

“Hey, Babe,” Dean said as he walked in. “Damn, I like to come back here after work.”

“You’re back early,” a pleased Castiel answered, lowering the temperature of the oven. “You’re not sick, are you?” he then asked, coming to greet him at the door.

Dean had time to put his coat on the hook and kick off his boots before Castiel hugged and kissed him. They held onto each other for a little while before Dean let himself be led to the sofa.

“Bobby closed the shop early…” Dean murmured on Castiel’s cheek, his lips grazing against the stubble. “Christmas Eve.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s jaw, reveling in his ‘garage’ smell. “I’m not complaining, far from it.” He looked up, locking their eyes together. “And you’re okay to spend this time with me?”

“I wouldn’t be here otherwise, Cas. Of course, I wanna be here. With you. Preferably naked.”

“I do have plans of the sort,” Castiel admitted, hating to have to lean back from Dean’s warmth. “First naked activity of the evening is a bubble bath. Which we’ll enjoy together while sipping on a nice bourbon. What do you say to that?”

Dean didn’t have to say a word, already working on taking off his coveralls. Castiel chuckled as he got to his feet to go draw them a bath. He poured some of the new products he’d bought, something that smelled woodsy with a hint of vanilla, very much reminiscent of Dean’s own cologne.

He didn’t go back into the main room, disrobing right there before pouring two servings of the bourbon he’d already brought in earlier. The bath was still filling up when Dean walked in, just as naked as Castiel. Dean wrapped himself around him, kissing him properly this time.

“Hey, Cas,” he said, his forehead resting on Castiel’s.

“Hello, Dean,” he responded before kissing him again. They melted into each other’s hold, the room slowly filling up with steam from the hot bath. Until Castiel took a step back to see it was getting dangerously full.

“Crap!” he said, moving away from Dean to shut the water off. “Look what you almost made me do,” he added, looking over his shoulder to wink at Dean. He pulled the plug to drain some of the water, then put it back in.

Without another word, Castiel got in, spreading his legs wide open for Dean to sit between them. “Come in… let me take care of you.”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice, coming in to lean against Castiel’s front. He let out a pleased sigh as he let his head rest against Castiel’s shoulder. When he wrapped his arms around Dean, Castiel let out a similar sound.

“How was your day?” he asked in a hush, not wanting to disturb the peace surrounding them.

“We didn’t do much… mostly cleaned up our tools. Had a couple of emergency repairs coming in, but nothing major.”

“Wasn’t it boring?”

“Nah… I like when we get to clean our tools. I mean, we get to sit around and chat like chicks at a salon. What’s not to like?”

Castiel chuckled, then kissed the top of Dean’s head. “Would you like me to wash your hair?” he asked, already going for the bottle of shampoo.

Dean nodded before moving to dip his head under water. He came up again, sitting straight rather than leaning against Castiel. “Can I do you after?” he asked, wiping the water from his eyes.

“I’d love that,” Castiel answered as he pressed a dollop of shampoo on Dean’s head. Soon, he had both hands in his hair, eliciting soft moans from him while he massaged the scalp. Instead of asking him to dip down again, Castiel grabbed the pitcher he kept next to the bathtub to rinse Dean’s hair. “Tilt your head back,” he said before starting to pour water on him, making sure to shield his eyes from the soapy water.

“My turn,” Dean said, having to get to his feet to turn around so they’d face each other. Castiel dumped water on his own head a couple of times, then put the pitcher back on the floor. Dean smiled at him, already with shampoo in his palm. The way he washed Castiel’s hair felt more playful, especially when his face split into a wide grin.

“What?”

“Nothing. I just think you’d look awesome with a mohawk.”

Castiel scrunched his eyebrows as he put his hands up. He patted around to find he indeed had some kind of sculpture on his head. “You’re such a child,” Castiel said, not unkindly.

“I know,” he answered as he picked up the pitcher. “Close your eyes.”

Not only did he close his eyes, but Castiel also hid his whole face behind his hands. Water soon washed over him, four times, then he felt Dean tug at his wrists. “I’m done, you can stop hiding now.”

Seeing Dean in front of him wasn’t a new thing, yet Castiel’s heart still skipped a beat when he opened his eyes again. It was enough to know he’d probably never get used to the sight of Dean. Not now, and not ever.

“I know Christmas isn’t Thanksgiving, Dean, but… I can’t help being thankful for you being in my life,” Castiel said, taking Dean’s hands in his. He lift them up to kiss them, reverent.

When Dean responded, he sounded a little choked up. “Yeah, same here, Cas. I know things are weird right now, but they’ll get better, all right?”

“I know.”

“Good.”

No matter how much they wanted to get close to one another right now, doing so by facing each other in the tub wasn’t all that comfortable for two tall and broad men. Instead, they did a quick job of washing up before getting out. They didn’t make it out of the bathroom, ending up rutting against one another on the cold tiles and coming with their hands wrapped together around their lengths.

“We gotta wash again,” Dean said, amused by the sight of come coating their lower abdomens and crotches.

With sluggish moves, Castiel took the still damp washcloth resting on the edge of the bath to clean them both up. “Done… anything else your heart desires?”

“I wouldn’t be against doing this again,” Dean said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Cheeky, Castiel shook his head. “More sex is scheduled for later tonight.”

“There’s a schedule?”

Without answering, Castiel got to his feet and offered Dean his hand. “It’s a special day, Dean. It’s Christmas Eve, and I’m not alone. I need to make this count.”

“You’ve never been with anyone on Christmas Eve?”

“Told you I’ve never really been in a relationship, Dean,” Castiel explained as he pulled Dean up. “You’re my first…”

“Better make sure it’s great, then,” Dean said before wrapping his arms around Castiel and kissing him deeply. When he let him go, the both of them were short of breath again. “What’s next?”

Castiel smiled, leading the way into the main room. Rather than going to sit at the table or the sofa, Castiel made him sit on the bed. Only then did Dean notice the wrapped gifts set on it.

“I don’t—” he started to say, only to be kissed again.

“You’re my gift, Dean,” Castiel said, pushing a thin rectangular box at him. “Open this one first.”

Blushing, Dean took the box wrapped in green paper with a red bow. He hesitated only for a minute before plowing through the paper. The cardboard box underneath was black with gold lettering. “This looks fancy… and expensive,” he said under his breath.

“It’s not, I swear. They only want you to think it is,” Castiel provided, landing a soft hand on his thigh. “Open it.”

Dean nodded and complied to find something in a black and shiny fabric inside. He took the first of two elements to unfold it. “What’s this? Satin pajamas?” he said, putting the top aside to grab the pants. “What am I? Hugh fuckin’ Heffner?”

Castiel chuckled as he took a second box to open it himself. Inside, an identical set of black satin pajamas. “If that’s what you are, then so am I. Do you like them?”

Rolling his eyes, Dean put back the top in the box, only keeping the pants. “They’re great, Cas. Thanks! It’s just… what happened to being naked?” he said with a pout.

“I love getting you naked… for that, you need to be wearing something,” Castiel explained before coming in to softly bite at Dean’s bottom lip, his gaze never leaving Dean’s.

Dean cleared his throat when Castiel let his lip go, then licked his lips. “Yeah… okay… I can do that,” he said as he put the pants on. Castiel did the same, putting on the top without buttoning it.

“Take it off,” Dean said, tugging at the hem. “Just the pants, all right? You’re so gorgeous!”

“I still need to prepare dinner, Dean. I’d rather have something to protect myself.” He leaned forward again to kiss him greedily, leaving him breathless. “Plus, it’ll be something else to take off of me,” he added with a wink before grabbing another gift from the bed and hand it to him.

“Cas!”

“Last one, I swear. Please…”

Dean took it, blushing again. He unwrapped it a bit more delicately this time, worried the cubic box could be holding something fragile. What pulling on the paper revealed left Dean in shock.

“What?”

“You love him, don’t you? I mean, if you already have this, I won’t mind, I’ll just keep it for myself, but…”

“No… I mean… I don’t have this.” Dean looked up at Castiel, eyes wide. “How did you know?”

“That you’re a Vonnegut’s fan? From browsing through your Facebook page,” Castiel said, him too blushing now. “You don’t have this box set, do you?”

“Of course not, I don’t… it’s… wow! Thanks, Cas,” Dean said in a stammer, putting the gift aside to take Castiel in his arms. “You don’t understand, my copy of _Slaughterhouse-Five_ is so old, it’s falling apart.” He took back the boxset to examine it, sighing in relief when he saw his favorite one was in there too. Plus a couple of the titles he had promised himself he’d eventually read. “This is awesome, Cas. Thank you!” he said, putting the box aside to take Castiel in his arms again.


	27. Chapter 27

 

“This is why I prefer pie to cake,” Dean said, giving the cupcake a suspicious once-over. “I mean… how is this appetizing?”

Castiel rolled his eyes, already unwrapping the base of his second cupcake. “You eat candies that are much more colorful than this. How can you find red velvet cake with green icing weird?”

Dean pouted, taking an experimental sniff of the pastry. “Not the same… cake… cake is either vanilla or chocolate. Anything else is unnatural.”

Shaking his head, Castiel ripped a small piece off his own cupcake to hand it to Dean. “Try it… I swear, it’s really good. The cream cheese icing really makes all the difference in the world.”

Only hesitating for a second, Dean wrapped his lips around the bit of cake Castiel held, making sure to suck on his fingers at the same time. He barely chewed before swallowing.

“All right, it’s not so bad,” he said, unwrapping his own cupcake to engulf half of it in a single bite. “But I’d rather have you for dessert,” he added with a wink before jamming the last of the cupcake in his mouth.

“That will be coming later,” Castiel said, grabbing the Bluetooth speaker’s remote to turn up the volume. As soft Christmas music filled the apartment, he got to his feet, holding his hand out toward Dean.

“Would you care to dance?”

Dean’s brows scrunched up. “To Christmas music?”

Castiel only nodded, taking Dean’s hand to tug on it. Dean shook his head, his gaze still soft on him.

“You’re such a romantic sap,” he said, getting up to wrap his arms around Castiel’s waist and lead him where they’d have more room to move.

“Because you’re not?” Castiel asked, his hands now wrapped on the back of Dean’s neck.

“ _Touché_!”

The smile on Dean’s face was warm, and Castiel could feel his insides melting from that sight alone. He sighed, leaning his face against Dean’s shoulder. This was one of the only times he’d wished to be smaller, or that Dean was taller, just so he could be resting on Dean’s pectoral muscles instead. Like when they lay in bed together and he can listen to Dean’s heartbeat.

“Thanks, Cas…”

Castiel didn’t move or open his eyes to respond. “What for?”

“Everything I guess… you, dinner, the gifts. I’ll make it up to you, you know that, right?”

“There’s nothing to make up for, Dean. Frankly, making you happy makes me happy, so really, this is just me being selfish.”

Castiel had to lean back, Dean’s whole upper body shaking because he’d started laughing. As his laughter died down, Dean hugged Castiel even tighter as they kept swaying together, Castiel resuming his position. As his lips latched on the hollow of his neck to suck and lick the skin, he changed his mind about being shorter or Dean being taller; this right now was perfect.

“I’d rather you didn’t do this,” Dean said, his voice raspy.

“Why not?” Castiel said in a low hum before kissing the skin, tempted to start sucking on it again.

“Christmas dinner… they can’t know…”

Castiel leaned back, his eyes dark with lust. “So… no hickeys? Or no hickeys there?” he asked, grazing his fingers where his mouth had been.

Dean swallowed, looking just as lustful. “Not there,” he confirmed, moving his feet again. He wasn’t dancing anymore, leading Castiel toward the bed instead. “Enough dancing…”

Giving him back an energetic nod, Castiel didn’t resist, letting Dean move them both around. What he did do was clench a fist into the comforter to pull it off the bed, his gaze never leaving Dean’s as he did.

Had he realized what satin on satin meant, he would have kept the comforter on. Instead, he sat too close to the edge and found himself falling on his ass, the satin pajama bottoms causing him to slide off the satin sheets.

Dean erupted in laughter again, all the while trying to ask if Castiel was okay. Not that he could answer, laughing just as much as Dean was. Still sitting on the floor, Castiel pulled on Dean’s pajama bottoms, choking on his laughter when his half-hard dick came into view; that thing was a marvelous one.

Dean also stopped laughing, soon stepping out of his pants and kicking them aside. With his hands on Dean’s calves, Castiel got to his knees. He licked his lips as he let his hands roam upward until he clasped them on Dean’s hips. “Fuck my face,” he murmured, looking up at him through his lashes.

“Cas… hmm… I—”

“I’ve been practicing…” Castiel said. He wrapped a hand around Dean’s rapidly thickening shaft to wrap his lips around the head to give it a quick suck, making Dean hiss.

“How?” Dean’s voice, already wrecked, went straight Castiel’s own crotch. He took his mouth of him to speak.

“I have this toy, never showed it to you… a nice life-like dildo I’ve been shoving down my throat while you were at work.”

“Fuck… a toy… where—”

“I’ll show you… another time,” Castiel said, hoping licking a stripe on the underside of Dean’s dick would be enough to shut him up. It almost worked, whatever Dean said next being an unintelligible mess. He then proceeded to take him in his mouth, working to gobble him up to the hilt.

“Cas! Jesus!” Dean yelped, his hands flying to grab Castiel’s hair. Castiel hummed around him, delighted by how it made Dean’s dick jump in his mouth. He grabbed Dean’s hips again, pushing him away only to pull him back in.

Dean didn’t need more than that to start moving, holding onto Castiel’s scalp as he rocked in and out of his mouth. Now with a hand in his own PJs, Castiel regretted not having put the butt plug in, the idea of being filled up at both ends almost enough to make him come on the spot. He started imagining them with a third person joining their bed, Castiel getting to enjoy two live dicks at once, at either end or having both in his ass. He wanted it all.

The images the thought prompted made him come quicker than he’d wanted, fucking himself mercilessly in his own hand with Dean still ramming in and out of his throat.

“Fuck! Cas! I’m—”

Dean followed an instant later, bending in half over Castiel’s head with his dick buried so deep that Castiel didn’t even get to taste his load. “Shit…” he breathed as he pulled out, Castiel’s jaw aching and his lips burning. “Don’t think you need practice anymore,” Dean blurted as he got to his knees, making Castiel chuckle as he let Dean lick in his mouth. “You’re amazing,” he said when he let him go, wrapping himself around Castiel again.

Soon getting out of his pants, Castiel climbed on the bed, relishing in the coolness of the satin sheets. It didn’t matter that it was cold as hell outside, he and Dean certainly had a knack to generate a whole lot of heat. They lay down together, Castiel’s head against Dean’s chest just the way he liked it, his fingers making Dean’s areolas pepper with goosebumps.

There weren’t any noises other than the Christmas music and their own breathing for a while, but neither fell asleep, enjoying the proximity while their bodies recharged.

“Did you ever fuck anyone?” Dean asked at some point, prompting Castiel to open his eyes.

“What do you think we’ve been doing here?” he said, puzzled.

“No, I mean… ever put your dick in someone? Other than the mouth, I mean.”

Castiel glanced up to see Dean looking back at him with a bit of heat in his cheeks. “No, I haven’t. Why?”

“Curious is all… would you—I mean—didn’t you ever wanna try?”

Castiel looked back down, twirling a finger around Dean’s nipple as he thought about it. “I don’t know… I mean… is it a necessity?” he asked before leaning to lick at the erect nub.

Dean shivered, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Not a necessity, I guess,” he eventually said. “It’s really great is what I’m saying. You should try it someday.”

This time, Castiel haunched himself up on an elbow to look Dean in the eye. “What is it you’re really saying, Dean? Would you like me to fuck you? Is that what this is about?”

Averting his eyes, Dean shrugged. “Dunno… maybe… I mean… you seem to like it a whole lot.”

“I do.” Castiel pulled himself up closer to try and meet Dean’s gaze, only speaking once he did. “Did you ever play with your ass? You know, fingers, toys…”

Dean shook his head, then rolled his eyes. “I suck, huh? I mean, I’ve always been okay fucking girls in the ass, and I certainly like doing it to you, but I won’t even go anywhere near my own butthole.”

“I wouldn’t think that it’s a prerequisite, Dean. Some like it, some don’t, and that’s totally okay.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t I have at least tried it to know? Never needed to try to know I wanted to fuck someone in the ass.”

It was Castiel’s turn to shrug. “Maybe you don’t need to have tried to know you don’t want it, just like me.”

“But you do…”

“Talking about girls, Dean. Never had sex with a girl, yet I know I don’t want it.” He grazed a hand over Dean’s stubble, giving him a tender kiss as he did. “I’m not going to ask you to do this, not ever. But if you want it, and if you want it to be with me, then I’ll make sure it’s the best experience you ever have.”


	28. Chapter 28

 

The drive to Bobby and Ellen’s was a nice one, the sun shining bright and warm. Not warm enough to melt the blanket of snow, but at least it kept the roads nice and dry enough.

Dean and Castiel got to the house a little after two, all the other guests already there when they arrived. He might have known there would be a good amount of people, Castiel’s throat still constricted at the idea and he had to cough to be able to breathe again.

“You okay?” Dean asked as he turned the engine off.

“I just remembered there’d be a lot of people. Managed to forget somehow.”

“There’s not that many people and, I mean… you baked them all cookies, man. You’ll be their new god.”

Castiel chuckled, already breathing more easily. “Not sure being a god is all it’s cracked up to be,” he said with a crooked smile.

“I don’t know… probably has its perks.” Dean gave their surroundings a once over before dipping to give Castiel a furtive kiss on the lips. “Sucks that we have to hide this,” he said, leaning back with regret. “Next Christmas will be much better. Hell! My birthday’ll be much better.”

His heart fluttering, Castiel only nodded, elated that Dean could be thinking about them being together even a month from now.

“Let’s go,” Dean said before getting out to go and open the trunk. Castiel joined him and they both grabbed the bags with the gifts to bring inside.

They were greeted noisily, everyone making it clear that the hollers and whistles weren’t only for Dean, but for Castiel as well. It took them a moment to be able to find somewhere to sit, after taking off their winter gear, putting the gifts under the tree, and going around the house to say hi to everybody.

“They’re all so nice,” Castiel said in a low voice when they were able to sit down. There had only been room on one of the sofas, forcing them to sit close together. There wouldn’t have been room for a single sheet of paper between them, but they didn’t care. They both relished in each other’s warmth with most of the people around them being none the wiser.

As Bobby and Ellen worked in the kitchen – refusing all offers to help – the guests talked among themselves, very curious about Castiel who ended up being asked a whole lot of question. And even when he told them what he did for a living, none of them squirmed, instead seeming quite interested to know more.

Apart from those he’d already met – Jo, Charlie, Sam, and their hosts – Castiel got to meet a couple more people. Rufus Turner, who worked with Bobby and Dean, as well as Ash who worked both at the garage and _Harvelle’s_. He also met Sam’s girlfriend, a beautiful hearing-impaired brunette named Eileen. As she spoke, she would both speak and sign, and most would do the same back to her. Which, in Castiel’s opinion, was enough to convince him these people were the kindest he’d ever met.

As they chatted, nobody’s glass ever went empty. When came time to move to the dinner table later in the afternoon, everyone was at least a bit tipsy. Which probably explained why Castiel found himself almost weeping at the sight of the lavish display of food.

“This looks amazing,” Castiel said in awe. “You did all this?”

“We certainly did, boy,” Bobby answered with a modest smile. “Well, I’m more of a sous-chef myself. The missus tells me what to do and I do it.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Mr. Grumpy,” Ellen said before squeezing his cheeks in one hand to peck him on the lips. “You made the cranberry sauce and the gravy, all by your lonesome. Now, say thank you.”

Bobby batted his wife’s hand away from his face. “Yeah, let’s at least wait for them to give it a taste, okay?”

“They do that same bit every year,” Dean said in Castiel’s ear, making him bristle when the lips brushed against his skin. “And every year, the food’s awesome. And they know it.”

Castiel turned to nod at Dean, who nodded back at him, the both of them with an alcohol-induced dopey smile on their faces. It was Sam clearing his throat that reminded them of where they were, reluctantly looking away from each other.

Turkey was served, along with garlic mashed potatoes, roasted vegetables, sweet rolls, plus the promised cranberry sauce and gravy. The first thing Castiel did was take an individual bite of everything to taste, humming in delight each time. He saved the turkey for last, almost melting onto his chair when he put a piece in his mouth.

“Told you the chicken was dry, Dean,” he said around his mouthful, remembering his attempts at Christmas dinner the night before.

“Wasn’t that bad,” Dean answered before stuffing his face with a forkful of pretty much everything on his plate.

“No need to lie, I don’t mind. I told you last night, and I’m telling you now: The chicken was dry as fuck.”

A couple of giggles erupted around the table, making Castiel utter a sorry for having cursed. Which prompted even more giggles.

“Okay, maybe, but the gravy was really nice and it helped a whole lot. Dinner was great, Cas.”

Castiel shrugged, also stabbing a bunch of different foods from his plate to create the best bite possible. “The gravy came from a can,” he said before putting the little masterpiece in his mouth, moaning around it.

“So you boys spent Christmas Eve together?” Ellen asked. “Did you find a party to go to?”

Dean shook his head as he worked on swallowing the food he’d been chewing on. “Nah… just spent the evening at Cas’s and watched movies. Nothing too exciting.”

“Says you!” Jo said. “Come on, Dean, out with it… we all know you guys are screwing!”

While Castiel gaped at the blonde, Dean scowled at the redhead sitting next to her.

“Charlie!” he said in a snap. She turned to him, looking just as shocked as Castiel.

“I said nothing, Dean! I swear. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“Wait! They really are?” Jo asked, turning to her girlfriend. “And you knew?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Jo. Of course, Dean and Castiel aren’t—”

Ellen interrupted herself, only now catching up onto the aura of malaise hovering over the table. She turned to Dean, her lips pinched. “Dean? It’s not true, is it? Tell me you’re not cheating on Lydia.”

Sitting next to her, Bobby had a frown on his face as he sent worried glances between his wife and Dean. As for Dean, he turned to his brother, hoping to find solace in his gaze. Sam looked back at him with those damn puppy eyes of his and shrugged, knowing there was nothing he could say or do that would help in the slightest.

Dean scoffed as he pinched the bridge of his nose, taking Castiel’s hand to hold it over the table. “Yeah, we’re kinda together… is that gonna be a problem?”

Instead of answering, Ellen got to her feet, throwing her napkin over her unfinished plate. She stomped into the kitchen, letting the revolving door swing behind her. Soon, the water could be heard running, along with a clatter of pots and pans. Until the noises stopped and Ellen stomped back into the dining room.

“I can’t believe you’re doing this crap, Dean Winchester. How can you be so insensitive, so selfish…”

“I—” Dean attempted to say, stopping himself when Ellen took a step forward to point the carving fork she’d just picked up at him.

“I’m not done! You’re gonna listen to me, boy. I know Lydia’s not the girl for you, we all know this. Doesn’t mean that she deserves to be treated this way. Nobody does!”

“I know, I—”

“Shut up! Nothing you could say to me right now will make this okay. Nothing! And you know what? Until you’ve made things right, I think you should just… arg! Just… get out of my face!” Ellen spat before turning back around to go into the kitchen.

When Dean looked about to get up and join her, Bobby shook his head, getting to his feet.

“She wasn’t kidding, son. Stay here, I’ll go and talk to her,” he said, an expression of grief on his face. “You know how she is. She’ll calm down faster than not, but right now you’ll just piss her off more. You don’t gotta leave, though,” he added as he turned to join his wife in the kitchen. “Can never get no peace, can I?” they heard him say under his breath before he disappeared after his wife.

Nobody spoke for a while, eating their food without looking at one another. Except for Dean and Castiel. Neither of them could eat, still holding hands and looking down at their plates. Until Castiel seemed to realize what had happened and took his hand back to hide it on his lap.

“Cas?” Dean said, his voice low.

“I—” He looked up to see everyone looking at them now. He felt his face grow warm, that damn bowling ball rapidly swelling in his belly. “I—I gotta use—I—I’m sorry…”

He never finished his thought, getting up to go hide in the bathroom.


	29. Chapter 29

 

Locking himself in the bathroom might not have been the best idea Castiel could have had, mostly because it meant that he was hogging the place and nobody could use it if they needed to. That and seeing how bad he already felt, was enough to induce even more anguish.

If panic attacks were usually better handled on his own, Castiel couldn’t help wishing Dean would have followed him. Even if he were to stand outside the door, Castiel knew his presence would be enough to help ground himself. But he wasn’t there, probably trying to make amends with his surrogate mother.

Knocks on the door startled him. “Dean?” he asked, his heart accelerating again.

“It’s me, Castiel. It’s Ellen. Can I come in?”

Castiel swallowed, looking at the door in fear. Still, it was her home so he couldn’t very well refuse. “I’m—yes—I’ll be out in a second.”

“No need to come out, I just wanna come in to talk with you.”

Deflated, Castiel went to unlock the door with a trembling hand. On the other side stood Ellen, not looking mad but not looking happy either. He took a couple of steps back when she walked in, closed the door behind her and locked it again.

“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” she asked, sounding concerned.

Castiel only nodded, unable to look at her. She came toward him, holding his chin with her fingers to tilt his face down, forcing their gazes to meet.

“First of all, you gotta know that nobody here cares about anyone being gay, or bi, or whatever else. That’s not what this is about. Second, I want you to know that I don’t blame you for any of this shit, all right?”

“But—”

“But, nothing. It’s Dean who messed up here, not you. Did you force him? Did you put a gun against his head and told him you’d pull the trigger if he didn’t sleep with you?”

Castiel squinted his eyes, confused. “Of course not.”

“Then him cheating on Lyddie is his sole responsibility. I don’t care that you dangled yourself naked and covered in pies in front of him, it was still his decision to make. You get what I’m saying?”

Not about to relinquish his part of responsibilities this easily, Castiel still nodded, mostly because he knew she wouldn’t let it go. And frankly, he didn’t have the energy to fight right now.

“Come on, sit down,” Ellen said, pointing at the fluffy cover on the toilet seat. He complied, glancing at her when she sat next to him on the edge of the bath. “Are you doing a bit better, Sweetheart?”

The pet name, the same Naomi and her kin used for him, was enough to elicit shudders. “Not Sweetheart, please.”

She tilted her head but didn’t object. “Cas it is, then. How are you feelin’?”

He gave her a thankful, yet tentative smile. “I’m better. Sorry to be hogging the bathroom like this, I just needed to—”

“No need to be sorry. There’s another one upstairs if anyone needs to go. But if I’d known you needed a bit of privacy, I would have offered you to go there instead. Plus, it’s much nicer,” she added with a wink. “If you’re tired, you can even go and take a nap in the boys’ room. It’s more of a guest room now, but it still has the twin beds.”

“The boys… as in Dean and his brother?”

“Dean didn’t tell you, then? Yeah, when their father passed away, Sam and Dean came to live with us. I mean, Dean was legally an adult by then, but Sam was only fourteen. They needed help.”

“And how do you know them?”

Her smile turned bitter, only for a second. “My late husband and their dad, they kind of grew up together, were best friends. They even ended up working together at Bobby’s garage. All went well until Mary died.” She looked at Castiel to see the question on his face. “Mary was Sam and Dean’s mom. She died in a fire years ago… Sam wasn’t even a year old.”

Castiel sucked in a breath. He’d known Dean’s parents were both dead, but he’d never dared to ask how it happened. “That’s awful.”

“Yeah, it is. The next fourteen years weren’t easy for the kids. John, that’s their dad, he kind of went off the rails. After Bill died, I kind of steered clear of him as much as I could.”

“Bill?”

“My first husband, Jo’s father. It happened twelve years ago, a hunting accident of all things.” Castiel swallowed when he noticed the pinch in Ellen’s lips. “John and him, they’d go hunting for a week every fall. That year, John drank too damn much and shot my husband. He even went to jail for it, just not long enough in my opinion. The boys stayed with Bobby during—”

Swallowing down his own sadness, Castiel put a hand on Ellen’s arm to stop her. “I don’t think you should be telling me about all of this, Ellen. It should be Dean’s decision to share about his past. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked you about it.”

Ellen’s hard gaze softened a bit. “You’re right, although it’s also my story. Still, I understand what you mean." She let out a soft sigh, her smile a little less sad now. "You must be exhausted. Would you like to go upstairs and take a nap? Nobody will take offense, I promise.”

Castiel shook his head, starting to feel better now that he knew Ellen’s ire wasn’t directed at him. “I’ll be okay, thank you. I just needed to isolate myself for a minute or two.”

“That’s totally fine. If you feel the need to be alone again, go up the stairs to the boys’ room. It’s the second door on the left. Okay?”

“Okay, thank you, Ellen.”

She got to her feet, tentatively opening her arms. Castiel didn’t hesitate, getting up to hug her.

“Take your time, nobody’s gonna bother you,” she said as she got out of his hold. “Unless you’d like me to tell Dean to join you?”

“You’re not mad at him anymore?”

“I’m not happy with him, but I ain’t about to kick his ass out. He’s one of my kids, and that’s never changing. No matter how much of an idiot he can be sometimes.”

Castiel let out a relieved breath. “Good, I’m glad. I wouldn’t want to—”

“Remember, kid. Not your fault. So, you wanna see Dean or…?”

“No, thank you. I’ll join you all in a minute. I actually need to use the bathroom now.”

Ellen nodded before leaving the room, Castiel locking the door behind her. He emptied his bladder, washed his hand, then splashed a bit of cold water on his face. As he patted it dry, he finally dared to look at his reflection. His nerves eased some more when he found he didn’t look too miserable. He put back the towel on the rack and went to join the others in the living room.

He found Dean seated at the same spot he had been before. When he saw Castiel, he patted the empty space beside him, smiling. Castiel complied, keeping his eyes on the ground as he joined him. Squeezing himself in the small space made him sigh in ease, Dean’s warmth against his body enough to calm him down completely.

“You okay?” Dean asked in a soft voice. Castiel looked up at him, his heart speeding up again when their gazes met. He’d never get over those green eyes. He nodded, hoping they could kiss, his eyes shifting to Dean’s lips only minutely.

“Later,” Dean said around his smirk before turning to the others. “So… we gonna open those gifts or what?”

“Had I known what I know now, I wouldn’t have bothered getting you one,” Ellen said as she came into the room holding a tray with a coffee urn and mugs. She placed it on the coffee table, scowling at Dean. “Would have gotten you a lump of coal instead.”

Following right behind her, Bobby put his own tray down. It held a plate filled with fruit tarts, as well as cream and sugar for the coffee. “Dig in,” he said, taking a pastry for himself before going to sit in the armchair next to the tree. “We gon’ have pie and coffee and then we gon’ think about gifts.”

Jo wouldn’t have it, putting on a shiny red Santa hat as she came to stand next to the tree. “You guys eat your pie, I’ll take care of the gifts!” Nobody said a thing against it, most already with their mouth full of dessert. Charlie went to sit at her girlfriend’s feet, bringing her a coffee as she did. About half-way into the distribution, Jo came to stand before Castiel, holding a box of an impressive size.

“What is this?” he asked, perplexed.

“A gift! That’s what I’ve been doing for the last half hour, handsome… handing out gifts. And this one’s for you.”

“But… I…”

Rolling her eyes, Jo dropped the box on his lap to go back to the tree. Castiel looked around to see everyone with their eyes on him, expectant.

“Come on, open it,” Dean said, poking at him with his elbow. “It’s not gonna bite.”

“I don’t—is this from you?”

Dean winked at him, tugging at the bow. “You really thought I wouldn’t have gotten you anything? Come on, Jo won’t give out another gift before you’ve opened yours.”

Castiel couldn’t help the pleased smile that crept onto his lips as he started ripping the paper apart. Not unlike the gift he’d given Dean himself, it held what looked like a clothes box, just bigger than the ones that held the pajamas. He opened it to find…

“A coat?” He swallowed, not sure he understood why Dean would be giving him a coat. And a blue one, on top of it.

“Yeah… I mean, your trench coat is great and vintage and all, but it’s not fit for winter. Thought I’d give you something warmer, for those days when adding a sweater isn’t enough. Plus, that blue, it’s gonna make your eyes pop.” Dean only then noticed Castiel’s bottom lip trembling. He tsked, wrapping a warm hand on the back of Castiel’s neck. “Look, if you don’t like it, that’s fine, I kept the receipt. We’ll find something else you like, okay?”

Castiel turned a watery gaze on him. “No… no… I like it… it’s just… I love it, okay? It’s beautiful… I just… you’re not asking me to get rid of my other coat?”

“Well, of course, I’m not. Why the hell would I do that?”

Castiel shrugged as he took the coat out of the box to unfold it while Jo resumed her gift-giving task. Dean threw the now empty box on the pile of scraps, Castiel examining the garment with avid eyes now. He wasn’t a fashionista, far from it, but he had to admit that the pea coat looked very nice. He loved the thick blue wool – which was probably quite warm – and dark copper buttons.

“You really like it?” Deans said against his ear.

“I do, Dean… it looks very comfortable and warm. Thank you.” Once more, Castiel’s eyes dropped to Dean’s lips, biting at his own lower lip as he did. When their eyes met again, Dean’s breath hitched.

“Oh, what the hell!” he said, leaning to catch that bottom lip between his own lips.


	30. Chapter 30

 

The next few days, Castiel and Dean spent them in a lovestruck haze. It was even better than their first week together. Dean never went back to his apartment after bringing even more stuff from his place, as if preparing to move in.

They quickly fell into a routine, Castiel getting up before dawn with Dean to prepare his coffee while he showered, then having a bit of breakfast together if making love hadn’t taken too much of their time. They would do it again when Dean came back, usually while taking a shower together before they had dinner naked in bed. Then they would make love yet a third time before falling asleep in each other’s arms.

While Dean worked, Castiel spent his days researching and trying out recipes. Not everything he made ended up tasting good, but Dean never once complained, only suggesting they go get burgers that one night Castiel’s tuna casserole came out of the oven scary looking and smelling rank.

And when they weren’t eating or having sex, they talked. About their childhoods, their dreams, about anything that could have happened that day. That was how Castiel learned about the people in Dean’s life, confirming some of the things Ellen had told him and adding some more information. By Saturday evening, Castiel felt as if he had known Dean his whole life.

It was also by then that Castiel came to the conclusion that they had no real future together. He’d gone to the convenience store to buy the eggs and milk he had forgotten the day before and when he came back, he found the apartment door ajar. Before he could go through it, Dean’s voice made him stop.

“No, I know. I didn’t go on Facebook in a while, so… you sure? I mean, don’t think Lyddie would have posted about it without telling me. I don’t think that’s what she meant, Sam.”

Castiel swallowed, not knowing what to do. He chose to stay in the hall but kept on listening.

“If she is, then I’ll do what I gotta do, Sammy. No, I won’t marry her, not now, but I won’t abandon my kid either… if she tries that shit, I’ll sue her ass… I don’t know, I’ll take a paternity test if need be… no, there’s no way, I just met him, Sam… plus, he’s the first guy I ever… no, I know…” Castiel could hear Dean pacing around the apartment, huffing as he did.

“You know my take on this, Sam. I’ve always wanted a family… you know, the whole shebang, marriage, kids… I know that, but… Lyddie will never forgive me for Cas…”

Castiel’s throat constricted, a fat lump settling in it. Getting married and having kids was something Dean had always wanted, and clearly, Castiel only stood in the way of his dream. If Castiel understood correctly, Lydia was pregnant again. He took a couple of steps back, not wanting to intrude more than he already had.

If indeed Dean had gotten Lydia pregnant, there was no way Castiel could stand in the way. Mostly, Dean deserved to see his dreams become reality. He’d go and marry Lydia, and maybe the child she’d end up giving him would make things better between them.

“Hey, you’re back!”

Dean opening the door to find him standing by the stairs startled Castiel. He looked up, a bit of heat in his cheeks.

“Yeah… just came back now. Are you going somewhere?” he asked, somewhat hesitant.

The small squint in Dean’s eyes made Castiel even more nervous. “No, I just found the door open and I was wondering why. Did you open it?”

Castiel shook his head, averting his eyes as he came in the apartment. “Must not have closed it properly earlier,” he offered, putting the grocery bag on the floor. Dean said nothing else, going to put the eggs and milk in the fridge, then coming back to help Castiel take off his new jacket.

“This thing looks so good on you,” he said before dipping to kiss the crook of his neck. “Best gift ever!”

Thinking a crisis might have been averted, Castiel relaxed a bit. “I’m not too keen on people tooting their own horns, but I have to admit that this is the best gift I’ve ever received,” he said, moving to kiss Dean on the lips. He hummed as he did, bent on ignoring everything he’d heard only a couple of minutes prior.

“You know what I’d like to see?” Dean said after some time, his voice thick with want. “I’d love to see you naked under that other coat of yours.”

“If I’m to be naked, I think the new one would be warmer, Dean.”

“Not if we stay right here.” He licked his lips, his eyes already darkening. “Like… you could go to the bathroom, take everything off and then come out only wearing the thing.”

Castiel chuckled, sliding a hand down to give Dean’s ass a light squeeze. “How did that kinky idea of yours come about? You can’t like the coat that much, can you?”

Dean shook his head, now biting at his lower lip. “I like you that much. It’s just an excuse to see you naked, really.”

“Don’t need the coat for that.”

“Please? I just really, really, really wanna fuck you while you’re wearing it.”

Castiel’s dick had started to fill in his pants. When he spoke, his voice was the raspiest it’s ever been. “That’s… hum… it was my grandfather’s,” he managed to say, even though he really didn’t mind at that very moment.

“So… it’s a no, then?” Dean’s expression fell at the thought.

Without a word, Castiel caught Dean’s mouth with his, kissing him deeply for a whole minute before letting him go, panting. “Bed,” he only said, taking his boots off before grabbing the trench coat going to hide in the bathroom.

Soon, Castiel was coming back out, only wearing that coat he’d been mocked for wearing by most. He went to stand at the foot of the bed, facing Dean who was now sitting against the headboard with his boxers very much tented.

Castiel stood there for a while, holding onto the belt he had knotted. He reveled in Dean’s heated gaze over him, his own erect dick brushing against the fabric.

“Open it,” Dean commanded, pressing the heel of his hand over his crotch. “Please.”

“I think I should keep it closed. Much more proper this way, seeing as I’m naked under there.”

Getting on all fours, Dean crawled up to him. “Fuck proper! I gotta see you.”

“So kinky, Dean Winchester… so very kinky,” Castiel said as he took a step forward, letting his arms fall to his sides. “If you must…”

Dean’s avid grin gave Castiel goosebumps. While Dean worked on untying the belt, Castiel felt himself already leaking, both aroused and mortified by the fact that he was painting the inside of his grandfather’s coat with precome.

“This looks even better than I thought it would,” Dean said under his breath when he was done undoing the buttons, opening up the coat. He dipped to kiss Castiel’s navel, then licked along his happy trail. “I could do this all day, every day,” he added before nuzzling against Castiel’s shaft, the stubble almost enough to make him double over.

Starting to get hot, Castiel went to chuck the coat off, only for Dean to stop him and rearrange it over his shoulders. “I wasn’t joking, Cas. I really wanna fuck you while you’re wearing it.” In saying this, Dean moved back again to sit against the headboard. He grabbed the condoms and lube from the bedside table. “Want you to wrap it around us while you fuck yourself on my cock.”

Castiel’s whole skin was buzzing when he got up on the bed, towering over Dean with his feet on either side of him. He bowed down a bit, holding out a hand in which Dean squirted some lube. They both did a quick job of prepping themselves up, until Castiel walked a bit higher up around Dean’s body to squat down, both with his feet flat on the mattress.

Castiel held onto Dean’s dick as he found the best angle, letting himself slide down the second he found it.

“Oh, god…” he let out, thumping his forehead with Dean’s when he had bottomed out. “Hold me,” he added, trapping his own dick between their bodies as he started working himself up and down. Dean complied, wrapping his arms around Castiel underneath the trench coat.

The garment might have been too big on Castiel, it still wasn’t big enough for both of them to fit inside. It didn’t matter all that much, Dean was content to just be inside it in the little way he could.

 

 

“It’s like I’m in your skin,” Dean said in a hush against Castiel’s heaving chest. “Being inside you’s not enough, Babe… I need more.”

Why Castiel thought back to what he’d heard at that very moment, he didn’t know. All he knew is that it punched the air out of him as he bottomed out again. He didn’t push himself back up, letting out a shuddering breath.

“Babe?” Dean said, leaning back a little to try and catch Castiel’s gaze. He let his hand roam softly on his lower back, his hips, his thighs. “What’s going on… did I hurt—”

Castiel finally met Dean’s eyes. “Everything’s good,” he said. “Leg cramp. Can we…?”

Dean nodded, relief etched all over his face. He moved them around so Castiel would be on his back, plopping out only for a second before pushing himself back inside. “S’that better?”

Letting out a hitched moan, Castiel nodded. Dean was doing a better job at stimulating his prostate as he himself had been doing anyway. It was all it took for all the Lydia thoughts to dissipate from his mind.

They came back with a vengeance a bit of time later, while Castiel rested in Dean’s arms with the trench coat covering them both. And it was all Dean’s fault… kind of.

“I really wanna try it, Cas,” Dean had said as they rested together, his fingers grazing at Castiel’s scalp. “I wanna feel you inside me. I wasn’t joking before… this… this doesn’t feel like enough somehow.”

It didn’t matter that Castiel loved the idea of switching things around, even if only once. He just didn’t believe he should be the one doing this to Dean. Not if he was going to be breaking up before Dean could end things with Lydia.

He couldn’t bring himself to say a thing about it, not wanting to ruin the little time they had left together. So, instead of answering with words, he leaned up to kiss him, ever so softly.

“Is that a yes?” Deans asked before swallowing loudly. “You—you don’t wanna do this now, do you?”

Castiel smiled, shaking his head. “Tonight, we sleep,” Castiel said. “Tomorrow we can talk more about it if that’s still something you want to do.”


	31. Chapter 31

 

Castiel decided pretty early on that day that he wouldn’t be going to his father’s for Sunday dinner. He was still too angry at him and Naomi to entertain the thought of playing nice for a couple of hours. Also, having decided that things would end soon with Dean, he wanted to spend as much time with him as he could.

“You’re not staying here because of me, are you?” Dean asked as they munched on Castiel’s blueberry pancakes. He picked a piece of bacon and split it in two, putting both halves in his mouth at once. “I won’t go with you, but I don’t mind waiting here.” He waggled his eyebrows. “Naked.”

Castiel chuckled, shaking his head. “How do you expect me to ever want to leave when you say stuff like that.”

Dean shrugged, a crooked smile on his face. “Beats me!”

Just like the Saturday before, Dean and Castiel spent their Sunday barely dressed, splitting their time between whatever they could find on TV, having sex, and napping. Sometimes, two of those would overlap, like when Castiel woke up with his sex hard and deep inside Dean’s mouth.

“Shit,” he said, opening his eyes to see the comforter bobbing up and down. He threw it aside, eager to see Dean’s lips spread thinly around him. He let out a moan when the green eyes looked up at him. “You’re so good.”

He couldn’t hold in a whine when Dean let him go, giving a soft lick over the tip before moving to straddle Castiel’s legs. “How ’bout it?” he said, sitting on his thighs. “Wanna do this now?”

It took a couple of seconds for Castiel to understand, even with the eager look on Dean’s face. “Oh… you mean… you want me to…”

“I want it so bad, Cas… you have no idea,” Dean confirmed, bowing down to capture his mouth, their chests bumping together. “Kinda prepped myself before sucking you off. Just so I’d be ready, you know?”

Castiel swallowed, unsure about how he felt about it all. And oddly enough, the main thing he felt was deception, having to admit that he would have loved to be the one to open Dean up.

“Turn around,” he said, his voice thick with want.

“I wanna ride you, Cas. Face to face,” Dean answered, licking his lips.

“I just wanna see.”

Understanding dawned on Dean, whose face turned crimson red. He still complied, turning around to present himself, spreading his buttcheeks for him. Castiel almost choked on his saliva at the sight of the puckered hole glistening with lube. “Jesus…” he muttered, making Dean hiss when he pressed a thumb against the rim. “Don’t think you’re open enough, though,” he said, sitting up. “May I?”

Dean sent him a feverish gaze over his shoulder, nodding.

Castiel too got to his knees, grabbing the bottle of lube from the bedside table only to drop it on the mattress. Spreading Dean’s cheeks, he dipped down to kiss the rim, making him suck in a breath. “Is that all right?” he asked, speaking against Dean’s skin.

“Uh-huh,” was all he got back, not that he needed more than that. The shaky moan Dean let out when Castiel licked his crack made his dick jump. He tasted like lube, but Castiel didn’t mind so much, now kissing Dean’s asshole with an open mouth and dipping his tongue in.

“Cas!” Dean said in a squeak when he started pumping his tongue in and out of him. “Fuck!”

His mouth never leaving Dean, Castiel blindly grabbed the bottle of lube to press a dollop on his fingers. He made sure to warm it before pushing a finger alongside his tongue, making Dean yelp again. Castiel sat back on his heels, wiping his mouth on his arm while spreading two fingers around in Dean’s ass, looking for his toy surprise.

“Oh fuck!” Dean screamed this time, jolting his hips backward when Castiel found his prostate. Castiel put a steadying hand over Dean’s lower back, massaging the bundle of nerves as he coated the insides with lube. When Castiel put a third finger in, Dean was a shivering mess.

“I’m good,” he croaked, his whole body shaking. “Please.”

“Still wanna ride me, or…?”

“I don’t care, man… just fuck me already!”

“Get on your back, then…” Castiel said as he moved on the mattress to let Dean make himself comfortable, putting on a condom and coating it with lube. “You can still change your mind, you know,” Castiel added, all the while praying that he wouldn’t. The answer came in a silent shake of Dean’s head.

Kneeling between Dean’s splayed leg, Castiel took one to hook it on his shoulder, caressing the other thigh softly. It wasn’t for Dean’s benefit, but for Castiel’s own. “How are you feeling?”

“Horny as fuck!”

Castiel chuckled a bit, letting Dean’s thigh go to grab his own dick. He pressed the head against Dean’s hole, making sure their eyes were locked together. He didn’t push, not yet.

“Please…”

Castiel licked his lips, so eager to just plunge, but unable to bring himself to. He felt his throat constrict, making him cough when he tried to breathe.

This time, when Dean spoke, he sounded annoyed. “What the hell are you waiting for, man? I’m dying here!” Then he moved to grab at Castiel’s hip and pulled him forward, throwing his head back when the head passed his rim. “Fu—fuck!”

Even if Castiel would have wanted to stop, he couldn’t have, his body taking over his mind. He could only watch, and feel, as his hips started working on their own accord, pulling back a little, then pushing a little deeper. As he worked his way inside Dean, Castiel’s mind kind of went blank, all that mattered being the tight heat pulsing around his dick.

“Oh, god…” he breathed, over and over, as if any other word had ceased to exist. He had a mind to stop moving when his balls hit Dean’s ass. “You okay?” he managed to say, Dean only being able to nod, his eyes screwed shut.

Castiel pulled almost all the way out to push himself back in, making Dean yelp as he did.

“Shit! Yeah! Cas… faster!”

He obeyed, soon finding a rhythm that left them both breathless as they tried to kiss. Once more, neither of them lasted very long, but it didn’t matter, dread settling low in Castiel’s gut as his brain slowly came back online.

It didn’t matter that Dean looked blissed out, Castiel still had decided the day before that he would end things before Lydia’s return. He shouldn’t have done this to him.

“How do you feel?” he eventually asked, in dire need of reassurance. He turned to Dean who was looking back at him with stars in his eyes. He swallowed.

“That was… awesome,” Dean said, snaking an arm around Castiel’s midsection. “How ’bout you? How does it feel to fuck someone?”

“You know how it feels, Dean.”

“Talkin’ ’bout you, here. Did you like it?”

“It was nice… very nice… still, I think I prefer it the other way around.” He gave him a tentative smile, leaning in to kiss his lips. “Do you feel you’re more of a bottom, now?”

Dean chuckled, brushing a hand over his face. “Don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed it,” he said, licking his lips, “but I think I prefer the other way around, too. Just not opposed to bottom once in a while. If you’d wanna do this again, I mean.”

Castiel nodded, his nerves easing a bit. At least, Dean had liked it. “We could also use a double dildo. Be bottoms together,” he said, chuckling when Dean sucked in a breath.

“Hmm… I mean… I guess we could do that someday, yeah.” Dean, whose skin had returned to its original coloring, was blushing again. “Saw girls using that before, though… not guys.”

“You never watch much gay porn, did you?”

Dean shook his head. “I watched a bit, out of curiosity, you know? Just never saw that.”

“I’ve watched a lot of porn,” Castiel admitted, not even bothering to be ashamed of it. “All of it gay with the occasional girl thrown in. Those are my least favorite.”

“Shoot! That means I wouldn’t be able to convince you to go for a threesome?”

“You could… if you were willing to have another man with us, I mean.”

This time, Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t think I’m there yet,” he said. “It took me twenty-seven years to find a guy that I’d be willing to get down and dirty with. Finding another one is unlikely.”

And even though he knew Dean hadn’t meant it like that, his response still made Castiel’s heart cease in his chest. Dean wasn’t gay, he was barely even bisexual. Of course, he would eventually get bored and go back to what he knew and loved: a woman. One he could marry and have children with.

Castiel didn’t respond, turning around with his back against Dean to signify time had come to spoon. Dean didn’t object, wrapping himself around Castiel and hiding his face in the crook of his neck.

“’Night, Cas,” Dean said, his breath hot on Castiel’s skin.

“Good night, Dean,” he responded, promising himself the next four or five days would be the best of them all.


	32. Chapter 32

 

Dean had been gone to work for less than an hour when Castiel decided to send Hannah a text. It was early enough that she should see it before leaving for work, but if she did, she never responded. So Castiel sent another one, asking her to meet him for lunch at the cafe near the funeral home.

To be perfectly honest, the message Castiel sent read more like a plea, promising that he’d be waiting for her with her favorite sandwich and tea, were she to answer or not. And when came noon, Castiel was already there, two sandwiches and cups of tea on the table in front of him.

When Hannah entered the cafe and saw him sitting there, she seemed to deflate a bit before making a beeline for him. Castiel didn’t say a word, only pulling the chair for her to sit on. She huffed as she did, looking inside the sandwich and sniffing the tea as if Castiel could have gotten her order wrong. Of course, he hadn’t and she rolled her eyes before taking a sip of the drink.

“You know it’s gonna take more than lunch for me to forgive you, right?”

Castiel’s heart sank, feeling obligated to tell her she too had things she needed to be forgiven for.

“You were pretty harsh yourself, Hannah,” he said in a soft voice, not in the mood to fight anymore.

She scoffed at him but still nodded. “Yeah, maybe,” she said, reluctant. “I guess I can’t expect everyone to be on the same moral wavelength as me.” She squinted at him. “Except, I believed you were, Cas. That was the thing I loved most about you. And now…”

“And now you hate me?”

Instead of answering, Hannah took one half of her sandwich to take a bite. As she chewed, she had a concentrated look on her face, as if weighing her options. Castiel gave her the time she needed, taking a bite of his own sandwich as he waited.

“I don’t hate you, Castiel,” she eventually said. “I’m disappointed, a whole lot, but I don’t hate you. You’re my best friend.”

Castiel’s heart fluttered. “I am?”

“You know you are. I don’t agree with any of this, but it’s not enough to hate you. I’ve been wishing I could lately, but I can’t.”

A smile crept on Castiel’s lips. “I’m sorry you feel like I’ve let you down, Hannah. What can I say… I fell in love.”

Not only did Hannah’s eyes widened in surprise, so did Castiel’s. He hadn’t meant to say that. Because he couldn’t be in love, right? It was far too soon, and anyway, his relationship with Dean had an expiration date. A fast approaching one, too.

“You never said anything about love, Cas,” Hannah said, looking a bit confused now. “You guys just met. And he’s your first… you know…”

Castiel sighed, hiding his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean to say that. Forget I said anything, okay?”

“Kinda hard to do that now. So, that’s it? Dean’s your ever after?”

Still with his face in his hands, Castiel shook his head, not daring to look at her again.

“He’s not… I’d love for him to be my ever after, but he’s not.”

Hannah pulled his hands off his face and locked her gaze onto his. “What do you mean?” she only asked.

Castiel shrugged, taking a sip of tea before answering. “He wants a family, Hannah. He wants marriage, and kids, and in case you haven’t noticed, I don’t have a uterus.”

Hannah tilted her head, looking confused again. “You know you can adopt, right? Or find a surrogate?”

“Could we, though? We can’t even get married. Not in Kansas, anyway.”

“There are other states that would allow it, I’m sure.”

“Dean won’t move, his whole family’s here. No matter how sad it makes me, I know we don’t have a future together. Not the one Dean wants, anyway.”

Hannah, still holding one of Castiel’s hands, made sure to look him in the eye. “Did he tell you that? Did he say you guys had no future together?”

“Didn’t really talk about that, no. And anyway, there’s a big chance his fiancée is pregnant again. He’ll wanna be with her and the kid, which I can understand.”

“I doubt that she’d want him now, Cas. He’s been cheating on her.”

Castiel shook his head, taking his hand back and averting his eyes. “She doesn’t know that. If I break things off with Dean before he gets to tell her they’re over, then he has a chance to get what he wants.”

“He said so himself, Cas. He doesn’t love her.”

“She would still be the mother of his child. She’ll need him, so will the kid. I don’t have the right to stand in their way.”

Shaking her head, Hannah took back her sandwich half to start munching on it, waiting to be done with it to speak again.

“You say there’s a chance she’s pregnant. Did Dean tell you that?”

Chewing on his own mouthful, Castiel shook his head. “Not directly, no. I heard him talking to his brother on the phone.”

She rolled her eyes. “You spied on him? How am I even surprised?” she added, more for her own benefit than his.

“It was an accident, Hannah. I had gone out to the store and when I came back, I heard him talking on the phone. I waited for him to be done, that’s all.”

“But you listened as you waited.” She rolled her eyes again when she noticed the red in his face. “You really should talk to him about it.”

“He told his brother that I wouldn’t be part of the equation, Hannah. Even if he left Lydia, I wouldn’t be a part of it.”

“He did? You’re sure about that?”

“Very much so, yes. He told Sam how he’d just met me, and that I was the first guy he’s ever been with. Doesn’t sound like ever after to me. More like… a phase, or something.”

“Well, to me it sounds like you’re putting words into his mouth, Cas. I may not approve of this thing between you two, but I would probably get over it much quicker if this was about love rather than lust.”

“You know I knew nothing about Dean when I saw him the first time, right? I wanted him, Hannah. I lusted over him.”

“Not helping your case, here.”

“Didn’t know I was on trial,” he said, bitter. “I’m just telling it like it is.” He choked on those last words, very well knowing that lust wasn’t all there was. And she knew it too since he’d gone and spewed the words at her. “Lust eventually fades, so I’ll be okay.”

“Except you’re in love, Cas. You’re so gone, it’s not even funny anymore.”

He squinted at Hannah. “When was it ever funny?”

“Never,” she admitted, winking at him. “Look, you know my stance on all of this, but I still want you to be happy. I say talk to him. If you don’t, you’ll regret it.”

“We don’t have much time before Lydia comes back, I wouldn’t want to—”

“Wouldn’t want to what? Be happy? Seeing as you’ll probably be thrown into the pits of Hell when you die, you might as well enjoy life while you can.”

Castiel erupted in laughter, only because he knew Hannah was kidding. She may have been a stickler for the rules, she wasn’t a religious nut on top of it.

“Naomi probably thinks I will,” he said, still laughing. “Did I tell you how she’s worried I’ll turn her son gay?”

“Samandriel? Why would you… oh, of course… he’s gonna catch the gay.”

“He’s gonna catch the gay,” he said with a nod. “Now that she’s married my dad, her true colors are coming through. And she’s not a friend of the rainbow, I’m afraid.”

“What does your dad think of all this?”

“He says that it’s her right to want to keep what she considers to be bad influences away from her son.”

“So what? You’re not a part of the family anymore?”

“Not to that extent… not yet, anyway. Didn’t go to dinner yesterday, though. I’m still pretty pissed. And Dean won’t come with me anymore.”

“Can’t say I blame him.” As she went to take the second half of her sandwich, Hannah glanced at her watch and gasped. “Shit! I’m gonna be late for work,” she said as she stood up, taking a huge bite of the sandwich before putting it back on the plate. “Fankfff,” she said around her mouthful, making Castiel chuckle.

“My pleasure. So glad we’re not mad anymore,” he said as he came to take her in his arms. She let him do it, clapping his back as she too hugged him. “Don’t be a stranger, all right? And talk to Dean, okay? Really!”

“I’ll think about it. Oh, and are you still coming at _Harvelle’s_ on New Year’s Eve? Big party!”

“I wasn’t sure I was still invited, but yeah… I’ll be there. Text me the details,” she said before running out of the cafe. His eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner, his heart about twice as big and infinitely lighter.


	33. Chapter 33

 

It didn’t matter that he thought Hannah may have been right, Castiel still couldn’t find the courage to talk to Dean about the conversation he’d heard. What he did, which he knew was rather creepy and weird, was to go back and spy on Lydia’s Facebook page. He needed to see for himself what she would have written on there that could mean she was pregnant again.

The morning of New Year’s Eve, sitting in bed with coffee, he scrolled down her timeline. He subjected himself to a slew of selfies and other pictures Castiel couldn’t have cared less about. What he didn’t see was a post announcing anything pertaining to a possible pregnancy. Could she have taken it down after realizing she should have told Dean before the Interwebs?

He sighed, now tempted to send Sam a private message. Which in itself was a ridiculous thought, and Castiel knew it. Not only should he be talking to Dean rather than his brother, but he also knew that Sam would tell Dean about Castiel coming to him. He sighed again, closing his laptop to put it aside.

He thought about the last couple of days, the ones following their argument, and how they’d been great. To some extent anyway, considering Castiel knew those it was all about to come to an end. In two days, probably as early as Friday morning, Castiel would let Dean go so he could resume his relationship with Lydia. She was due back that same day, in the evening. He only had tonight and New Year’s day to get his fill of everything Dean Winchester.

Castiel winced at the thought, his heart stammering in his chest. He closed his eyes, knowing a panic attack was looming in the shadows. He lay down and closed his eyes to work on his breathing exercises. When he opened them again, it was to the door of the apartment opening.

“Already?” he said to Dean who had just come in.

Dean had a confused look on his face when he glanced at his watch. “Told you I’d be home by three.”

Castiel’s eyes bugged out as he too looked at his watch. “How is it three already?” he said, shocked. “It wasn’t even noon the last time I checked. Must have fallen asleep…”

Before long, Dean had taken off his coveralls and had joined him in bed, lying next to him. “I could go for a nap, too…” he said in a soft voice. “We’ll probably be up all night. When Ellen closes up the bar on New Year’s Eve, it pretty much becomes a private party. We stay there all night… up until _Biggerson’s_ opens up and someone goes for a pancake run!”

“All night?”

Castiel looked at Dean, hating to think how he won’t get to do that for much longer.

“All night…” Dean confirmed before leaning in for a kiss. They stayed in bed for a while, never taking their clothes off and only kissing once in a while, content basking in each other’s warmth. Until Dean fell asleep, his breath soft on Castiel’s neck.

Dean slept for almost two hours, Castiel never moving away but never falling asleep either. He thought a lot, trying to find ways to stop time from trickling away. If he could stop time, this would definitely have been the best moment to do it.

“Mmmh… mornin’,” Dean said when he stirred awake, his lips catching on Castiel’s skin as he spoke.

“It’s the evening, Dean,” Castiel answered, brushing a soft hand over Dean’s stubble. “We still have to go to the party.”

“Do we have to?”

Castiel’s heart ceased at that. “Not sure Ellen would appreciate you not going.”

“Us, Cas… she wouldn’t appreciate us not going.”

“Then I say we better go. What time do we have to be there?”

Dean yawned loudly, stretching his limbs, then wrapped himself around Castiel again. “Anytime, I guess. The bar’s open anyway.”

“After dinner, then? I have spaghetti sauce left, I could—”

Letting Castiel go to sit up, Dean shook his head. “Nope. Another New Year’s tradition is going to a Chinese buffet.” He looked at his watch and sighed. “We usually meet there around seven, we eat, and then we go end the evening at _Harvelle’s_. You like Chinese food, don’t you? You made that chicken fried rice the other day…”

“I do,” Castiel confirmed, also sitting up. “Not a big fan of buffets altogether, but if it’s a tradition, then it has to be respected.”

“Damn straight, it does. What do you say we go and take a shower now?” Dean asked, wiggling his eyebrows.

Because of said shower, and Dean being especially handsy that evening, they made it to the restaurant a bit later than expected. Sam and Eileen, Charlie, and even Hannah were already seated with full plates of food when they got there.

“You’re late,” Hannah said, plowing through an impressive amount of fried rice.

“Sorry… we were… hmm…”

Everyone laughed at Castiel’s inability to explain their tardiness, Dean included. “It was all my fault, Hannah. I’m sorry!” he eventually said as he sat next to his brother, leaving Castiel to sit between him and Hannah.

“I bet it was,” she quipped back, but her response carried no heat. She even winked at him, which in itself was quite the improvement as far as Castiel was concerned. “Thanks for the invitation, Dean.”

“You’re Castiel’s best friend, Hannah. Of course, I’d want you here with us.” Castiel smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to give her a side hug while taking Dean’s hand to squeeze it in thanks.

The dinner went smoothly, Castiel happy to see Hannah getting along with everyone at the table. Nobody else came to join them, which Castiel eventually asked Dean about.

“How come the others aren’t here?” he asked. “Isn’t this supposed to be a tradition?”

“It is, except Ellen can’t really close the bar to come and have dinner with us. Ellen has Chinese delivered at the bar so Jo, Ash, Bobby, and even Rufus, they can all eat it there.”

“Why don’t you go eat there too, then?”

Dean’s response came with a spread of his arms and a single word, “Buffet!” before getting up to go get himself a third serving of everything.

“How isn’t this guy fat? I’ll never understand,” Charlie said, as she too came back with a third plateful.

“As if you can talk,” Hannah said, eyeing the overflowing food on her plate. “You’re so skinny, yet you eat like an ogre. Gotta say, I kind of envy you.”

Charlie leaned over the table, looking at her as if about to share the secret to eternal life. “Sex is the key. Believe me, all those calories I consume, I burn,” she said, winking.

Hannah, who had also leaned in, sat back immediately, her face growing warm. “That explains it, then,” she muttered. She cleared her throat, then looked up at Charlie again. “If that’s what it takes, then I’d rather be fat!” she said, making the whole table laugh.

“What did I miss?” Dean said as he came back, dropping a stupidly full plate of food on the table.

“Hannah said she’d rather be fat than have sex,” Charlie said before erupting in laughter again. She stopped quickly this time, making sure to catch Hannah’s gaze. “You know I’m not laughing at you, right? It’s just how you said it… impeccable comedic timing.”

The pleased smile on Hannah’s lips mirrored Castiel’s.

“I’m glad I made you laugh, then!”

She turned to Sam when he addressed her.

“So, you’re ace?” he asked.

“Yeah, pretty much. Not aro, but definitely ace.”

Sam raised his glass of water to clink it against hers. “I’m demi-sexual myself, so I kinda get it.”

“I’m the gayest lesbian you’ll ever meet,” Charlie provided, also raising her glass.

Eileen spoke and signed before grabbing her own glass. “I’m a boring vanilla-white cishet.”

Everybody turned to Dean and Castiel, expectant.

“I’m very gay, and probably some kind of demi-sexual myself. Or demiromantic, maybe. I find this stuff kind of confusing, I won’t lie.”

He too raised his glass, sending Dean a look to signify it was his turn to speak.

“Well… if I hadn’t met this guy,” he said, pointing his thumb at Cas, “I’m pretty sure I would have said I was heterosexual. Don’t think I can really call myself that anymore,” he said, looking down at his plate. “Except, I’m not gay either.”

“That’s why God invented bisexuality,” Charlie said brightly.

“Yeah, see, not sure about that either.”

“You’re sleeping with a guy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, one guy. In twenty-seven years. I don’t really look at guys this way normally.”

“Bullshit!”

Dean turned to his brother, his ears starting to feel warm. “Not bullshit!”

Sam rolled his eyes, then put a hand in the air to erect fingers as he spoke. “Gunner Lawless, Harrison Ford, Dr. Sexy, Robert Plant.”

“Hey! I admire these guys, doesn’t mean I wanna pork ’em!” Dean said.

“Really, Dean? You’re telling me that if Han Solo walked in here and wanted to get with you right here, right now, you’d say no?”

Dean’s whole face had gone beet red at this point. “That’s unfair, Sam. I mean… it’s Han fucking Solo!”

Sam chuckled, pointing at Charlie without his gaze leaving Dean. “Charlie! Do you like Han Solo?”

“Of course…”

“Would you do him?”

Glancing at his friend, Dean saw her purse her lips. “Hell, no! I’d ask him for Leia’s number.”

The whole table laughed again, Castiel making sure to grab Dean’s hand to try and reassure him. When he spoke, it was in a hush, next to Dean’s ear. “Don’t worry about it, Dean. You don’t have to call yourself bisexual if you don’t want to. You get to decide what you are, and if this thing between us turns out to only be a phase or an experiment, then so be it.”

“Hey, whoa… you know you’re not an experiment, right?” Dean said, wrapping a hand over Castiel’s jaw. “Look, this is all a bit new, and I don’t really like labels, but it doesn’t mean I don’t want this, all right?”

Castiel swallowed, tempted to argue. He didn’t, not wanting to spoil their evening. Still, he didn’t answer, instead leaning in to kiss him softly on the lips. It was as if they remembered where they were at the very same moment, both leaning back in a start to send a guilt-ridden look to the others.

“Sorry. I know this is in poor taste,” Castiel said, now averting his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, Cas,” Dean said. “In a couple of days, this won’t be a problem anymore.”


	34. Chapter 34

 

When they arrived at _Harvelle’s_ , the bar was the busiest Castiel had ever seen it. Not that he’d been at the bar all that often, but it still felt weird. At least, Ellen had made sure they’d have room to sit by putting ‘Reserved’ cards on a couple of tables set between the bar and what looked like a dance floor. Had it always been there?

“There’s a DJ?” Castiel asked as they sat at a table next to Rufus and Bobby’s. Another man was sitting with them, someone Castiel had never seen before.

“How else are we gonna dance the night away?” Charlie said before going to sit next to the stranger. “Crowley! Didn’t think you were back already. How was your trip the Motherland?”

Without a word, Crowley pointed at the bar, an aggravated look on his face. “Mum decided to come back with me. Wanted to start up the year in style.”

“And you brought her here?” Charlie scoffed while Dean and Castiel turned to see a petite redhead in a long sequin dress sitting on a stool, sipping on a red cocktail.

“That’s your mother?” Dean asked, looking back at Crowley in shock. “She barely looks older than you.”

“You know she’s paid lots of money to look like that, yeah? Well… I have…” Crowley spat, taking a sip of his own drink, his eyes now on Castiel. “Who’s the handsome lad and pretty lady?” he asked to no one in particular.

“That’s Castiel, Dean’s—”

“Friend,” Dean finished in place of Charlie. “Castiel’s a new friend, s’been hanging around here lately. And this is his friend, Hannah. Cas, Hannah, this is Crowley, longtime client and friend of Bobby’s.”

“Friend might a bit much,” Bobby said, only to have Crowley blow a kiss at him.

“We’re much more than that,” he said before turning back to Dean and Castiel. “Just not in a way you two seem to be.”

Castiel noticed Dean clenching his jaw.

“Don’t worry, Luv, I won’t tell your darling fiancée about your little Holiday escapade,” Crowley said before getting to his feet. “Think Mum’s starting to get on Ellen’s nerves,” he said before leaving to go sit with her.

“I’m sorry, Cas… I said friend only because he knows Lydia, and I don’t trust him for shit.”

Castiel nodded, a tight smile on his lips. “I understand, don’t worry about it.”

Dean visibly relaxed. “But since he kinda guessed anyway…” he said as he dipped to kiss Castiel. A small peck, but a kiss nonetheless, one that left Castiel’s skin to tingle.

By eleven, the bar was packed and Castiel was way past tipsy and on his way to being drunk. Which probably explained how he didn’t mind bumping into strangers on the dance floor. As long as Dean’s arms were wrapped around him, he felt safe and cocooned, a sentiment greatly enhanced by the alcohol. And even when songs would require for them to dance separately, neither of them chose to do so.

That was why Castiel being pulled away from Dean’s body felt like something more violent than it probably had been. He yelped when he felt himself be propelled backward, flailing and falling on his ass before he could even understand he had been moving.

“You disgusting whore!” he heard over the music, which was already pretty loud. The shrill scream was accompanied by a weight straddling his body and fists starting to pummel at chest and his face.

Whatever euphoric sentiment had inhabited him transformed into a blinding rage, causing him to start punching back whoever had been assaulting him.

“Castiel! Stop that! Stop hitting her!”

The weight quickly disappeared and he wasn’t being hit anymore. Castiel opened his eyes to see what had been going on, only to see Dean struggling to hold a livid Lydia from jumping on him again. Castiel swallowed when he noticed the blood on the woman’s face. He also got to taste it when she spat a bloody wad of saliva at his face.

“Enough, Lydia! Come on!” Dean said in a growl as he managed to pull her away.

Castiel felt someone moving next to him, turning to see Charlie and Jo crouching down to assess the damage. Hannah was standing a bit further away, her arms crossed over her chest and a frown on her face.

“I’m sorry, Cas… nobody saw her coming in,” Jo said as she and Charlie helped Castiel back to his feet.

“I didn’t know what was happening. That’s the only reason I hit back. You guys know I’m not—”

“Don’t you dare be sorry to have defended yourself, Cas,” Charlie said, a serious look on her face. “I mean, I’m not a fan of people hitting each other like that, but she started it.”

“Pretty sure I started it,” Castiel said under his breath, knowing neither would hear him.

Instead of going back to their table, Jo and Charlie brought Castiel to Ellen’s office. Charlie helped him in the old leather chair while Jo poured him a glass of whiskey from her mother’s personal stash.

“Drink,” she ordered, handing him the glass.

“I think I’ve had enough—”

“I said, drink!”

Castiel swallowed and nodded, grabbing the glass to take a sip. The liquor burned when it touched his mouth. He touched it to find his lower lip swollen and a bloody cut splitting it in two.

Charlie batted his hand away, only to replace it with a bit of gauze. He flinched, whatever she’d put on it burning him even more than the whiskey had.

“You’re gonna have one hell of a shiner, dude,” Charlie said when as she tended to his cuts and bruises.

“Did I hurt Lydia a lot? I saw she was bleeding,” Castiel asked.

“She’s lucky I wasn’t the one who took her off of you, man! She’d be dead by now.”

“Jo…” Charlie said, admonishing.

“What? She’s a fucking psycho! She jumped on Cas and wailed on him when he never even did anything to her.”

“I did sleep with her fiancé.”

“So? He’s the cheating one, she should have been beating him up, not you.”

“She shouldn’t have been beating anyone up, Jo. Violence is never the answer, you know that.”

Jo glared at her girlfriend, then rolled her eyes. “Sometimes violence is all some people seem to understand. I don’t make the rules. Plus, don’t you like to beat the crap of people when you play queen a weekend a month?”

“You know it’s all pretend, Jo. Our swords are made of foam, for goodness sakes.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

Jo huffed and shrugged, not as combative anymore. “So… you guys are gonna be okay? I can go back to work?”

“We’ll be okay,” Charlie said. “We’ll stay here for a bit.” She turned to Castiel, smiling. “Want her to ask Hannah to come to see you? Or Dean? Both?”

Castiel shrugged, only now realizing Hannah hadn’t followed them. “I—I don’t mind, either way. I’d just like to make sure Hannah’s okay, at least. That whole thing must have freaked her out. She’s never seen me—I usually don’t—”

“I’ll go get her,” Jo said before walking out of the office, leaving him and Charlie alone.

“Hannah’s your friend, Cas. She’ll understand. Plus, it’s not as if you were the one that started throwing punches. She jumped on you.” The pause Charlie took then felt awkward somehow. “Dean will probably come to see you once he’s taken care of Lydia. There’s a bit of damage control to be done here.”

“This shouldn’t be… she shouldn’t have found out.”

“Who? Lydia? Well, no, ideally she wouldn’t have caught the two of you together, but there’s nothing you can do about it now. Just—”

“Cas?”

Castiel looked up to see Hannah standing in the door frame. She may have looked worried with her brows scrunched up like that, but he knew better; she was furious.

“Hannah—”

“You okay? Nothing’s broken?”

“No, I’m good. Bruises, mostly.”

“Good.” The pinch in her lips didn’t ease when she came closer. “You know you deserve this, right?”

“I know…”

“Whoa,” Charlie intervened. “Nobody deserves this, Hannah. Especially not Castiel. Not that I think he deserves it either, but Dean’s the cheater here.”

The room went cold when Hannah turned her irate gaze onto Charlie.

“Castiel pursued him, Charlie. He knew Dean was engaged before they even said a word to each other. He still went for it.”

Charlie’s own body language stiffened as she crossed her arms and faced Hannah. “Dean was unhappy, Hannah. Has been for as long as Lydia dug her claws into him. He’s a good guy, I swear.”

Hannah scoffed, but Charlie didn’t let it interrupt her.

“He was only going to marry her because she got pregnant… or so she said.”

“We’re not in the fifties anymore,” Hannah countered.

“I agree, but Dean is just that kind of guy. He’s a righteous man.”

This time, Hannah rolled her eyes when she scoffed, but she didn’t need to say a word for anyone to know she disagreed with Dean’s supposed righteousness.

“You want me to take you back home?” she said instead, crouching in front of Castiel. He met her gaze, shaking his head.

“I—I want to wait for Dean—I need to know how he’s doing.”

And even though she wasn’t any less mad, Hannah still put a gentle hand on Castiel’s knee. “All right, I get it, but I don’t wanna stay here. You’ll be okay if I leave?”

“I will. Thanks, Hannah. And I’m sorry for all of this.”

She gave him a somber nod before straightening up. “I know you are…” she only said before leaving him alone with Charlie.

“How are you feeling?” Charlie asked, placing her own hand where Hannah’s had been a second before.

“I’m fine,” Castiel said after taking a deep breath. He closed his eyes, waiting for the panic to start buzzing under his skin. It didn’t. When he opened his eyes, he found Charlie’s gaze on him. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I just ruined every—”

“Lydia ruined everyone’s night, Cas. Not you! You really need to understand that.”

“But, I—”

“I swear to the Goddess, I’ll beat you with a yardstick if you don’t stop blaming yourself. It’s Dean’s fault to have been cheating, and it’s Lydia’s fault to have tried to beat you up.”

“I hit her, Charlie! I, a grown adult male, have hit a woman.”

“You defended yourself… she came at you from behind and threw you to the floor, dude! Pretty sure you wouldn’t have hit her if you’d known who was attacking you.”

Thinking back to his teenage years, Castiel could only shrug. When he’d get mad the way he did just now, it never mattered who was there. He only had been lucky so far to never have a girl standing in his way. Still, he didn’t say a word about that.

“Thanks, Charlie,” he only said, a faint smile on his lips.


	35. Chapter 35

 

Castiel waited for Dean to come back to the bar for a long time, only to realize he probably wouldn’t when the clock hit four in the morning. Many had tried to convince him to stay until breakfast, but he had declined. Not only was he more than ready to go to bed, he just couldn’t handle the pitying look the others were sending him anymore. He took a cab home, hoping Dean would be there waiting for him.

Of course, he wasn’t, and Castiel went to bed with his heart heavy not long before the sun was about to come up. Now awake at one in the afternoon, Dean was still nowhere to be seen. As he went to prepare coffee, Castiel couldn’t help but feel as if things had already ended between them.

Although the thought was a sad one, Castiel forced himself to remember how he had decided to break up with him anyway. It just happened before he thought it would, and quite differently, too. Now, with Dean M.I.A., it wasn’t that much of a stretch to think he and Lydia had gotten to talk. Maybe she had confirmed being pregnant again. And if she was, Dean would probably want to do the right thing… again.

The keys in the door halted Castiel’s musings. He turned to see Dean coming in with a box of doughnuts and coffees. Their gazes met and Castiel’s heart sunk; Dean looked as if he hadn’t slept all night, which was probably the case. The dark circles under his red-rimmed eyes were proof enough.

“Hey,” he only said as he toed his boots off. He came to drop the breakfast on the table, his movements a little awkward when he raised a hand to brush against Castiel’s bruised eye.

Castiel hissed at the sting, taking a step back. “Don’t.”

“Sorry…”

Without another word, they took a seat at the table. Dean opened the box and pushed one of the coffees at him, then took a chocolate glazed doughnut for himself. Castiel accepted the drink but didn’t go for a pastry.

They didn’t talk for a while, nor looked at each other. Until Castiel decided the time had come to rip the bandage off in one fell swoop.

“It’s fine Dean,” he said, keeping his eyes averted. “I knew this wouldn’t last… we had fun.” He glanced up, but only for half a second. “I mean, I had the time of my life, and I’ll never forget you. We just don’t want the same things in life and that’s fine.” He tried to smile, but his attempt fell short. When he looked back up, Dean’s face was unreadable.

“Yeah… fun… so that’s what this was?”

“Well… didn’t you have fun?”

Dean’s eyes squinted and his jaw ticked. “Yeah… cheating on my fiancée, with a guy nonetheless, t’was all about fun. Nothing more. Because I’m just that kind of guy.”

Castiel’s heart ceased, but he still managed to give him a weak smile. “I know you’re not that kind of guy, but you’re not ‘this’ kind of guy either,” he said, finger quoting. “I’ll always cherish our moments together, Dean. Always. But time has come for the both of us to move on. We’ll both be better for it.”

He tried to grab the hand resting on the table, but Dean moved away. “Dean… please, say something.”

“What’s there to say? Clearly, your mind’s made up, we’re done here,” Dean spat, throwing his barely eaten pastry back in the box. “Wonder why I even tried, to be honest. I mean… it’s not like I’m gay, right?”

At that, Castiel felt his cheeks warm up. Clearly, he had a knack for going after guys that weren’t for him. Horny straight guys, closet cases… Naomi was right to fear that given enough time, he’d probably turn Samandriel into a raging homosexual. Chills crept up his spine at the thought: As if he’d ever put a single digit on the kid.

 

 

“No, you’re not. And now, you know it’s not for you. Again, it’s totally okay.” The small smile Castiel tried to give Dean left a bitter taste on his tongue.

Dean got to his feet, sending Castiel an assassin stare. “Better leave, then. Wouldn’t want to cramp your style or nothin’.”

“Dean…”

Turning his back to Castiel, Dean put his boots back on before grabbing the keyring from his coat pocket. He unhooked Castiel’s keys off of it before throwing them on the table.

“Good talk,” he only said before leaving, the door slamming closed on his back.

“That went well,” Castiel said to the empty space.

Only then did it really hit him; things were over with Dean. For real, this time. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, without success. The next second, he was struggling to breathe. “Shit!” he managed to say, his voice sounding like a toad that smoked two packs a day.

His whole body trembling, he made his way to his bed to let himself fall on it. He bunched a pillow over his face to scream into it. Once done with that, he kept the pillow there, because of course, it was the one Dean had been sleeping on. He breathed in his scent, letting it fill his lungs and course through his veins.

“Dean…” he breathed into the pillow before letting the tears flow free.

Not since his mother’s funeral did Castiel cry. Crying was for babies, crying was for the weak. Crying wasn’t something men did, not according to Chuck Shurley, anyway. And Castiel had believed him for a long time. And even after he had realized it wasn’t true, Castiel could never bring himself to cry. Not until this very moment.

He cried for hours, sometimes quietly, sometimes sobbing so hard his whole body would hurt. He cried long enough to almost manage to forget why he had started in the first place. The reason why would quickly come back and then he’d be crying again.

The dam had broken and he was crying for all those times he hadn’t let himself do it.

The first day of 2015 was spent this way, crying and reminiscing about things that made him cry. The phone rang a couple of times, but he never answered, letting his father and Hannah go to voicemail. The only person he could think of talking to right now was Dean, probably because he knew it would never happen again.

Even taking a bath later that day didn’t make things easier for him. He had put that product in it that kind of smelled like Dean, and he cried again as he fucked himself on the dildo that was just a tad bigger than Dean.

By the time Castiel went back to bed, not even nine hours after waking up, he was all cried out, his face puffy and red. He thought about grabbing his computer, but he didn’t, not ready to see the Internet version of the last weeks be annihilated. As long as he didn’t check, Dean and the others would still be his friends on Facebook.

He swallowed the pain the thought caused, remembering how he had hoped to finally be able to announce to the world that he was in a relationship with somebody as amazing as Dean Winchester. The tears stung his eyes again, but that’s all there was. He didn’t let himself start up again, mostly worried he wouldn’t be able to stop.

To help steer his thoughts in another direction, he turned on the TV. He looked around for a while, unable to settle for a particular channel. Not until he got to one showing the insides of a garage with men in coveralls – dark gray ones – working on vintage cars. He once more had to swallow the lump in his throat, unable to look away from the screen.

It didn’t matter that none of the men were even close to being as beautiful as Dean. Castiel still couldn’t help his heart’s erratic beatings at the sight and sounds of what probably was Dean’s daily life. The memory of Dean’s after work smell came back to Castiel’s mind, making his mouth water. Even the noises of the tools the mechanics used were enough to make Castiel’s dick stir.

He was almost crying again when he shut the TV off. Had he developed some sort of kink for mechanics? Would he get hard any time he’d get a whiff of motor oil or gasoline? Would anyone wearing coveralls make him all hot and bothered? At least, he found the idea amusing enough to keep the tears at bay.

He yawned noisily, stretching his limbs before getting under the cotton sheets he had put back on the bed. The satin ones had been stuffed in a garbage bag, Castiel unsure if he would even keep them. The only thing he knew was that he couldn’t bear the thought of sleeping in them. Not now, and probably not ever. The idea of welcoming another man in them felt all kinds of wrong. Which meant he probably would be getting rid of them on the next garbage day.

Castiel turned off the lamp and closed his eyes, hoping sleep would claim him sooner rather than later. He did get his wish, but it didn’t do much good seeing as he spent the night waking up every hour or so. And when he finally abdicated, it was because someone rang his doorbell at around nine the next morning.

In his haste to go and answer – it had to be Dean coming back – Castiel almost fell on his face. He caught himself just in time, sounding out of breath when he spoke through the intercom.

“Dean?” he asked, his breath ragged. He pressed on the listening button only to hear the noise of the street below. He was about to press on the speaking button again when she spoke.

“It’s me, Cas… Hannah. Can I come up?”


	36. Chapter 36

 

How Hannah was even able to find a Thai restaurant open at this hour, Castiel would never know. He suspected that she might have bought the soup the night before and heated it up before coming to see him, but he said nothing about it and thanked her instead.

He had munched on one of Dean’s doughnuts and drank a whole lot of coffee, but he hadn’t been able to stomach anything else since the day before. His stomach growled when he took off the lid off the styrofoam container and hummed, the sweet and spicy aroma tickling his nostrils.

“You look like crap,” she said as she sat before him and grabbed one of the now stale doughnuts.

“I feel like it, too,” he agreed before taking a sip of broth. It slid down his throat, warming him up from the inside out.

They didn’t speak for a while, each keeping their attention on their food rather than each other. Castiel was almost done with his soup when Hannah she had waited enough.

“Charlie tells me you broke things off with Dean?” she said, making his last spoonful go down the wrong pipe. He coughed a little, pushing the container aside.

“I had to.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“No, actually, I don’t,” Hannah said, genuine confusion on her face. “You go and ruin Dean’s whole—” She shook her head, taking a deep breath before starting over. “You finally have a chance to have Dean all to yourself and you break up with him? I mean… isn’t this what you wanted?”

Castiel shrugged. “I told you this before, Hannah. We don’t want the same things. Dean is better off without me.”

“I thought we had agreed that you’d talk to him before doing anything stupid. You know Lydia’s not pregnant, right?”

“I don’t care that she is or not. Dean deserves a family and if it’s not her, it’ll be another girl.”

Hannah huffed, a bitter smile on her lips. “You know you’re an idiot, right? You had a great thing going and then you go and ruin it over some stupid notion that you’re not who the guy wants?”

“He wants kids, Hannah!”

Shaking her head, Hannah sighed. “I can’t tell you what to think or feel here, but I really think you messed up by not talking to Dean about all of this. There are ways for two men to have kids. Do you know he doesn’t even understand what’s going in on right now?”

“What makes you say that?”

“Charlie says so. She reached out to me on Facebook, wondering what your problem was. She told me Dean is devastated.”

“He’ll be okay. I promise, Hannah, it’s for the best. Will you tell Charlie that?”

“No way. I love you, Cas, but this is your own mess. You clean it up.”

If a mess was meant to be left alone, it was this one, but Castiel said nothing about that. He hoped changing the subject would help.

“I may look like crap, you, on the other hand, look very good. Like… almost glowing. Your Holidays were good? Before New Year’s Eve, anyway?”

What Castiel hadn’t expected was to see Hannah blush. “Hannah?”

When she spoke, Hannah almost looked ashamed. “I—I met someone…”

A wide smile appeared on Castiel’s face. “You did? Where?”

“At work,” she said, her voice even smaller than before.

“At work? Now, that sounds interesting.”

“It’s not—I mean—I guess I have you to thank for that.”

Castiel chuckled. “I wasn’t even there.”

“Exactly. We had a man come in the second week of your vacation. He needed major work on his face, nasty accident and all. Anyway, I did the thing, and after the viewing, the son insisted on meeting the person who worked on his father.”

“Surprised Zachariah let it happen.”

“From what Gad told me, he didn’t really give him a choice.”

“Gad?”

“Short for Gadreel… don’t ask, he won’t say where that’s from. So, as I said, he insisted on meeting me. He wanted to thank in person the artist that made his dad presentable again. It was so weird, though. Like… we shook hands and that was it. He asked for my number right there, where I worked on his father. Isn’t that weird?”

“Wouldn’t know about weird. Definitely interesting, but not that weird, no. So what, you guys are together now?”

Hannah shrugged, still with a bit of red in her cheeks. “We’ve been on four dates already, even with Christmas and all. Seeing him again later today. We haven’t put a name on what we are just yet, but I guess there could be something more permanent in the works, yeah.”

Castiel nodded, chewing at his bottom lip as he considered how to ask his next question. He didn’t need to.

“He knows,” Hannah said, a faint smile on her lips. “It’s actually one of the first things we talked about.”

“In the morgue?”

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, I do have some boundaries, you know. No, I gave him my number, he asked me out, we went to dinner and then we talked.”

“I guess he doesn’t mind as much, seeing as you’ve been on four dates already.”

“Not only does he not mind, but he also said he was actually relieved. He doesn’t consider himself asexual, but sex isn’t really his thing either. Not anymore, anyway. He’d rather cuddle for hours, which is more than fine with me…”

Castiel sighed. “I’m so happy for you, Hannah. I really hope it works out between you two.”

“I hope so, too. You’ll really like him, you’ll see. I mean, he looks a bit rugged and I think his past isn’t all that glorious, but the man I’m getting to know is genuinely nice. Almost naive at times, which is so endearing… I mean, I get it, Cas. I get how you could fall head over heels the way you did for Dean. Without even knowing him all that much.”

The man’s name being spoken again tempered a bit with the atmosphere, but not for long. Castiel had something else to talk about with Hannah and he hung onto it like a buoy.

“I’ll have to meet your beau, Hannah. If only to give him the older brother speech. You know that, right?”

“Don’t think it’ll do any good, he’s bigger than you.”

“I may be smaller than he is, but I’m quick. And crafty.”

“I love you.”

Hannah’s sudden declaration, although not uncommon, gave Castiel goosebumps.

“I love you, too,” he said back, his voice scratchy. “I hope you never doubted this, did you?”

“Not really, no. I was jealous of him, but you knew that already. If anything, meeting Gad just showed me how the love I have for you isn’t romantic at all. I thought it was for a long time, but I know better now. I’ll never be jealous of the men you date ever again.”

“So… you’re in love, then?”

Hannah blushed again, even more than she had before. “Shut up! I don’t know… maybe.”

They didn’t speak while Castiel filled their two cups with more coffee, both comfortable in their shared silence.

“Thank you, Hannah.”

“What for?”

“For coming to see me. I know I wouldn’t have dared to call you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t. And, well, I too needed to understand. Not that I do, but at least now I know it’s not a matter of miscommunication. You really did break up with him.”

“I did.”

“Hope you’d change your mind. Or at least explain yourself better. I’m still convinced you’re wrong to think you can’t be it for him.”

“He wouldn’t want to talk to me now anyway. I saw the hate in his eyes when he left. I kinda hoped we could have remained friends, but… anyway, it’s better this way. It’d be too hard for me to keep seeing him, I think.”

“If you’re not going to talk to Dean again, at least talk to Charlie. She’s worried about you, Cas. I think you owe her as much, seeing as she fixed you up and spent the evening with you after that whole Lydia debacle. Sam’s worried too… and a bit pissed, I won’t lie.”

“I’ll talk to them, I will… I just needed a breather, you know? They’re Dean’s people, I’m nothing to them.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. In the little time you’ve known them, they all took to you. They like you, Cas, for real. They genuinely thought you and Dean had a real shot.”

It was Castiel’s turn to blush. “No, they didn’t.”

“Charlie swears she’s never seen Dean this happy with anyone. They’ve been friends since high school, so she should know.”

Castiel shrugged, holding his cup with both hands. “I’m the first guy Dean ever got with, it’s just the novelty of it all. Pretty sure it will fade quickly enough.”

“What if it doesn’t?”

“It will. I’m ready to put my savings on it!”


	37. Chapter 37

 

Even before he set foot in his father’s home, Castiel knew he had made a mistake. Actually, he had made a mistake not coming to dinner the week before, then made another one in coming this week.

If Chuck didn’t seem all that bothered and greeted Castiel the way he always did, Naomi was especially cold. The air was so thick with resentment when she opened the door that Castiel almost turned around to run back home.

He didn’t have time to try, Samandriel grabbing his hand and pulling him inside for a hug while Naomi closed the door and went back to the kitchen without a word.

“Hey, little man,” Castiel said, hugging him back. “Did you have a nice Christmas?”

That was all it took for Samandriel to go on a complete detailing of his Christmas and New Year’s with the cousins, describing all the gifts he received. The kid’s enthusiasm helped soothe Castiel’s nerves enough to feel remotely comfortable when came time to have dinner.

“I trust that your Holidays went well?” Naomi eventually said, mostly because she believed that it was her duty as a hostess to entertain her guests.

“They were great,” Castiel answered. She probably would have believed him if his voice hadn’t cracked on that last word.

“You don’t seem so sure. Trouble with your friend Dean?” She gave him a critical once-over before speaking again. “You don’t look so good… you look tired. And I do miss those nicer clothes of yours.”

Anger started bubbling up in Castiel’s gut again. He kept his eyes on Samandriel as he responded, hoping the sight of his stepbrother would be enough to keep his mood even. It didn’t.

“You’ll be happy to know Dean and I are done, Naomi,” he said in a low hiss. “And you know he wasn’t my friend, but my boyfriend.” It didn’t matter that it wasn’t actually true, but saying they were lovers might not have been the best thing with Samandriel sitting right there.

Like she always did, Naomi glossed over the information she didn’t care for, latching onto the fact that Castiel was single instead.

“Now see, that does make me somewhat happy. I knew you weren’t really gay, Sweetheart.” She leaned over the table to pat his hand. “Now, I have this friend who has a very nice looking daughter. A single, pretty daughter. She’s only a couple of years younger than you are and eager to start a family. The two of you would make the most adorable babies, I just know it.”

“That won’t be necessary, Naomi,” Castiel said, not in the mood to try and explain how women were not something he ever would be interested in. The spark of happiness that flickered when his father joined in the conversation didn’t last long.

“I think Cassie needs time, Naomi. He’ll be much more receptive when that Dean fellow is out of his mind. It couldn’t have been an easy phase to go through.”

Gaping at his father, Castiel shook his head. Even Chuck, who had said he didn’t care who Castiel dated, was now encouraging Naomi to pimp him to her girlfriends. Worse, he seemed to believe it had all been a phase. Castiel felt the need to defend himself, but he didn’t get to, thanks to Samandriel who decided there were better things to talk about.

“How do you work with dead people?” he asked bluntly, making the three adults look at him. His inquisitive gaze was on Castiel, waiting for a response with a gentle smile on his lips. “Is it scary?”

“Samandriel, this is not som—”

Castiel ignored Naomi admonishing her son in favor of responding to his question.

“It’s not scary,” he said, returning his smile. “I know my work makes people feel better, so I concentrate on that. Even though sometimes it’s kind of sad. Especially when I have to work on children.”

“Castiel…” Naomi said in a warning tone. He kept on ignoring her. If Samandriel was asking questions, it meant he was ready to hear the answers.

“Children can die too? How?”

Castiel shrugged. “Sometimes, they’re sick. Other times, it will be an accident. But whatever happens to them, it’s always difficult to think about.”

“When I die, will you make my face into a clown? Like you did on my birthday?”

While Castiel couldn’t hold a chuckle at that, Naomi let out an offended squeak.

“Enough, Samandriel! And this goes for you too, Castiel. I won’t have this type of conversation at my dinner table, you hear me?” She turned to her son to grab his hand. “You’re not dying, Samandriel, you hear me? I won’t allow it.”

“But—”

“This is not a discussion. This is me, your mother, telling you that you’re not allowed to die. Not before I do, anyway.”

Samandriel’s eyes squinted, which made Castiel’s heart flutter; had he gotten that from him? “And when are you going to die, Momma?”

With her lips pinched, she glanced at Castiel, then looked back at her son. “Not for a very long time. Nobody has died in our family and I intend to keep it that way for as long as possible.”

Naomi’s words were like a cold shower for Castiel. Whatever amusement he could have been feeling drowned quickly, leaving in its place a sea of bitterness.

“My mom died,” he mumbled.

When Naomi turned to him, she looked like a deer in headlights. He knew she had heard him, yet she asked him to repeat as if giving him an option not to. Castiel certainly didn’t want her to get out of it this easily.

“I said, my mom died. You know that.”

Naomi let out a shaky breath, her stiff form deflating a bit as she did. “No, I know that. It’s just—I meant—nobody died in our family,” she explained, waving a hand between herself and Samandriel. “Of course, you had a death in your family.”

Castiel turned to see his father not watching TV anymore. Instead, he had his gaze on his plate and didn’t seem to eager to jump in the conversation.

“Aren’t you going to say anything?” Castiel asked him through gritted teeth.

“S’nothing to say, Cassie. She’s right, after all.”

“That’s just great. So, now that you’ve married her, Mom doesn’t get to exist anymore? Is that it? I mean, it’s not enough that almost every bit of her disappeared from her own house, now we also have to forget she ever existed?”

“Of course not, Cassie…”

“I never said you should forget about your mother, Castiel. But she wasn’t part of my family, she was part of yours.”

“You two getting married, shouldn’t it mean that you are one family? And shouldn’t that include me?”

“It does, Sweetheart,” Naomi said, looking concerned now. “What could make you think otherwise?”

“Doesn’t matter that my mother’s dead, Naomi. She’s a part of me and if I’m a part of ‘your family’, then she is too.”

“I never knew your mother, Castiel. She passed away years ago, so of course, I tend to forget about her. It’s not intentional, I swear.”

And although Castiel was tempted to keep arguing with his stepmother, he stopped himself when he saw Samandriel’s chin trembling. He swallowed the harsh words he wanted to throw at her, hating the thought of hurting the kid.

Hurting him, or even Naomi, wouldn’t help his mother being remembered and respected. He swallowed at the thought that maybe he should stop expecting it to happen altogether.

“I think I’m just very tired,” he eventually said, looking down at his plate to realize he hadn’t touched it yet. Another fit of nausea hit him and he had to avert his eyes. “I think the Holidays were hard on me. Lots of stuff happened,” he offered as an excuse to leave. “When I come back next week, I should be feeling much better.” At that moment, he didn’t think he’d ever want to come back, but he wasn’t ready to say it.

He got to his feet, Naomi doing the same so she could walk him to the door. He said his goodbyes to Chuck and Samandriel before being ushered to the foyer.

As he put on his new winter coat, a red anorak he found at Goodwill – no way he could ever wear the trench coat again, or even that blue wool jacket – Naomi gave him a half appreciative look before holding a finger up.

“I always forget…” she said as she opened the closet to pull out the painting Castiel had given his father for their wedding. She handed it to him, an apologetic look on her face.

“Don’t get me wrong, it’s beautiful and we love it. It’s just… it doesn’t go with anything here. The color scheme just doesn’t work, you know? I haven’t seen your place, but I’m sure you could make it work, couldn’t you?”

At that very moment, Castiel decided to stop caring. Whatever she said about it, Naomi was bent on driving Castiel out of his father’s life. He finished putting on his boots before snatching the portrait out of her hands.

“Yeah, okay… bye, Naomi,” he said before walking out, leaving her to close the door on him.

As he made his way toward the bus shelter, he dropped the painting with the trash the neighbors had already put to the curb. He had only just sat down on the bench when he heard someone calling his name.

“Castiel!”

He turned to see Chuck running to him with the portrait in hand.


	38. Chapter 38

 

“Saw you put this with the neighbors’ trash. Why did you throw your painting, Castiel?” Chuck asked as he came to sit next to his son.

“Because you don’t want it? It’s okay if you don’t like it, but you should have told me instead of having Naomi do the dirty work for you.”

Chuck rolled his eyes and huffed. “I never said I didn’t like it, Castiel. Quite the contrary. I wanted to hang it my office, but… Naomi thought it clashed.”

“What’s there to clash? The colors in your office couldn’t be more neutral, all browns and tans. It’s a boring office.”

Chuck shrugged, still holding onto the painting Castiel was refusing to take back.

“You know how she is, Castiel. She likes things in a certain way and—”

“No! You can’t keep blaming your shortcomings on Naomi, Dad. Aren’t you your own person?”

“Of course, why do you—”

“Do you even hear the crap she says to me? Every time I come to dinner, she’s got something to bitch about. She hates my hair, she hates my clothes, she hates my job, she hates the fact that I’m gay. She thinks I’m gonna go after her son, for Christ’s sake! And you just sit there, saying nothing while she just… bullies me. Your wife’s a bully, Dad.”

The red in Chuck’s face wasn’t from him being out of breath anymore. Castiel just couldn’t say if it was out of anger or shame.

“Naomi is still my wife, Castiel. I think you should show her some respect when all she wants is to help you.”

“So you agree with her, then. I’m a failure? I never do anything right?”

“That’s not what I said. Don’t put words into my mouth.”

Castiel got up to start pacing in the small sheltered space.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you actually spoke to me once in a while. You never say a single word, letting her tell me how I suck without ever trying to argue against it.” He stopped to glare at Chuck. “The only reason I can think why you wouldn’t try and defend me is that you agree with her. You believe I’m a waste of space.”

For once, a genuine emotion emerged on Chuck’s face: Utter shock.

“You’re my son, Cassie. Never in a million years would I think ill of you. Of course, you’re not a waste of space. How in the world did you ever get this idea?”

“From you, Dad,” Castiel said, his voice now a low murmur. “I mean… when I was a kid you were a good enough dad, but then she came into your life and… you pushed me aside.”

Chuck’s hands were shaking when he let the painting go to grab Castiel’s, pulling him to sit on the bench again. “I did that?” he asked, his eyes wide in disbelief. “When I met Naomi, you were an adult, Cassie. You didn’t need me to take care of you anymore.”

“So you pushed me out of the nest?”

“I didn’t—”

“No, that’s another thing you let Naomi do for you.”

Averting his eyes, Chuck chewed on his lower lip. “You left, Cassie. You’re the one who moved out.”

“You think I had a choice? I agreed to let Samandriel have my room, and for that, I was thanked with a bumpy sofa-bed I had to close up every morning. It was as if I didn’t have the right to exist anymore.”

“Naomi—”

Chuck interrupted himself when his gaze met Castiel’s. He cleared his throat, nodding. “I’m sorry I failed you as a father, Cassie. Clearly, I didn’t know what I was doing… still don’t… if your mother hadn’t—you’d probably be much happier if she hadn’t—”

Castiel saw his father’s jaw set tight as he tightened his fists. They didn’t speak again for some time, up until Castiel found the courage to voice the question he hadn’t dared to ask before now.

“Mom… she killed herself, didn’t she?” he asked. “We never really talked about how she died. Didn’t wonder why that was until many years later. And every time I’d try to talk about her, you would just—”

“You know what she did, Cassie. Why would you want to talk about that?”

“I don’t know what she did, Dad. I was six years old, how do you want me to know? And every time I ever tried to ask about it, you’d shut me down.”

“Are—are you telling me you don’t remember? You have to remember that day, don’t you?”

“I have some memories, yes, but not much. I remember the ambulance leaving, you talking to a policeman, then I remember seeing mom in her coffin.” A bitter taste erupted on Castiel’s tongue. “I also remember you telling me to stop crying, that it was a waste of time and that it wouldn’t bring her back. You told me that grown men didn’t cry and now that I had no mother, I had to grow up.”

“I said no such thing.”

“Yes, you did… and I never really cried again. It all came out a couple of days ago when I had to end things with Dean.”

It wasn’t voicing Dean’s name that made Castiel cry again. It was his father’s own tears that broke him.

“I cried so much,” Chuck said through his sniffling. “I didn’t cry in front of you, but I did… every night, I cried for your mother. For a long time, too.”

“You told me to grow up…” Castiel was only able to say, the last word ending in a sob as he wrapped himself around his father.

They stayed that way for a while, crying in each other’s arms as wet snow started falling outside the shelter. When the bus came to a stop and the driver asked if everything was all right, both men shooed him away, crying in each other’s arms. Until they weren’t anymore, but still not letting go.

“Naomi will wonder where you’ve gone.”

“If she’s that worried, then she can come and find me.”

They both knew she wouldn’t, but said nothing about it. They eventually separated, sitting next to one another and somewhat comfortable for the first time in years.

“I’m sorry to have let Naomi try to change you. You know you’re a great person, right? You’re compassionate, and intelligent, and you look so much like—it’s hard to look at you sometimes, I won’t lie.”

“I saw pictures of Mom. I look nothing like her.”

“Not her, no. But you’re the spitting image of her brother.”

“I have an uncle?” Castiel said, baffled. He’d always been lead to believe neither his mom nor his dad had siblings.

“You did… he died only a couple of months before you were born. He was to be your godfather.”

“Is that why I was never baptized?”

“Partly, yes. Your mother was too distraught, but we still gave you his name: James.”

“I had an uncle named James Novak? Why did you never tell me that?”

Chuck shrugged. “After his death, your mother never wanted to speak of him again. I guess I only perpetuated the tradition when she herself passed.” He sniffled, wiping a hand over his face. “I have a box of your mother’s things I should have given you a long time ago. There are pictures in there, you’ll see for yourself how similar you both look.” He sighed, wrapping an arm around his son’s shoulders. “He became my best friend after Claire and I fell in love. Seeing you grow up to look so much like him has been both painful and marvelous. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me, Cassie… I need you to know that.”

“I could have heard that growing up, Dad. Or even just… two weeks ago.”

“I know… I failed you, Cassie, and I’m sorry. I have some work to do here for you to forgive me. And I’ll do it.”

And even though his father’s words sounded nice, Castiel couldn’t let himself believe them. Not yet. Mostly, he knew he too had some work to do to heal himself.

“Do you think we could see each other outside that Sunday dinner thing once in a while?” he asked, to which his father nodded. “Good… and… could it be some kind of father and son thing? Without a TV in the room? Or Naomi?”

This time, Chuck let out a small embarrassed laugh. “I’d love that. What do you say I come and see you from time to time? I’ve never been to your place.”

“Not from a lack of invitation.”

He had the decency to blush. “No, I know. Things are going to change, Cassie.”

Castiel nodded but said nothing. He’d been burned too often not to be wary of his father’s words.

“I could come and see you next week. Thursday, maybe? I’ll bring your mother’s souvenir box and we could go through it over pizza or something.”

Another idea sprung in Castiel’s mind, but he quickly shut it down. Offering to bake Claire’s lasagna might just be a bit much at this point in time. Maybe when things have gotten better…

“Pizza would be great, Dad. I’d love that.”

There was another pause, one during which Chuck took the wallet out of his pocket to grab a couple of twenty dollar bills and hand them to Castiel.

“Dad?”

“It’s freezing, you should take a cab,” Chuck explained as he got to his feet. “I’d feel much better if you had a car, but I know it’s not everyone’s thing. At least, that boyfriend of yours had a nice one and you didn’t have to take the bus over here.”

Castiel tried to give the money back to his father, but he didn’t take it, putting a hand over his shoulder to give it a light squeeze instead.

“How are you really doing? Things with Dean… is it really over? You boys seemed to like each other a whole lot.”

“When you met him, we weren’t really together, Dad,” Castiel said, chuckling. “I mean, I had a crush on him, but he just came as a favor to me.”

“Oh… so you’re not really…”

“Gay? Yeah, Dad, I am. And Dean and I… it’s complicated. Too complicated. We’re done.”

“Matters of the heart, they’re never easy. I honestly don’t mind who you love, son. I’ll talk to Naomi, all right? Please don’t hesitate to bring any other boyfriend you may have in the future. Whoever’s important to you, they’re important to me.”

Right about to cry again, Castiel only nodded as he took his father in his arms once more. They hugged briefly this time, Chuck getting out of his hold with a clap on his back. “I should go… have some situations to diffuse back at home. You’ll be okay?”

“I will. Thanks, Dad.”

“No need to thank me, son. You did all the work,” Chuck said with a wink. “I’ll see you Thursday.”


	39. Chapter 39

 

 

Even though the last days had been emotionally trying, it was still a rather serene Castiel that went into work the next morning.

He was smiling when he came in, bringing in a couple of muffins from Hannah’s favorite coffee shop. She was already there, working on airbrushing foundation on a bald man in his mid-forties.

When she heard him come in, she looked up, a relieved smile on her lips.

“Gosh, it’s good to see you, Castiel,” she said, putting the airbrush down to come and hug him.

“We saw each other only a couple of days ago. Is everything okay?”

She chuckled as she let him go, holding onto his shoulders as she looked him in the eye. “I still missed you, especially in here. It’s so boring being here alone. And, I won’t lie, it can be kinda spooky.”

Castiel rolled his eyes as he handed her the paper bag, which she opened. “Oh, and you bought my favorite, too,” she said, taking out the lemon and poppy seed muffin to take a bite. “Coffee’s almost ready,” she added around her mouthful, giving the bag back to him.

He didn’t take a muffin for himself, dropping the bag on the counter before going to take his coat off. He was pulling his apron over his head when he felt Hannah’s hand land softly on his shoulder.

“How are you doing, Cas? Really?”

The simple question was enough to make a lump grow in Castiel’s throat. He swallowed it and cleared his throat before turning around to face her.

“I’m—” He stopped, somehow finding himself incapable of lying to her. “I’m a mess, Hannah,” he said, a sad smile on his lips. “Enough of a mess that I called that therapist you recommended a while back. Left a message… I’m hoping she’ll call me back later today.”

“Dr. Mills? Didn’t think you kept her number. What brought that on? Is it Dean?”

“No, it has nothing to do with Dean, not really,” Castiel said with a sigh as he went to the coffee machine. He poured cups for himself and Hannah before speaking again. “Went to Sunday dinner last night. Things just… unraveled, let’s say.”

“What happened?”

“I’d rather talk about all of this over dinner or something, but the short version is that I finally had an actual conversation with my dad. We talked about my mom. He told me—I mean… I asked and—yeah, I was right…”

“She took her own life?” she said for him, her hands still a strong presence on his shoulder. “Did he tell you how?”

Since it seemed that Castiel crying had become a thing, he couldn’t hold the tears that trailed down his cheeks. “We didn’t talk all that much, we were in the bus shelter. He’s supposed to come and have dinner with me Thursday. At my place…” He sniffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “Apparently she had a brother and I look just like him. He died before I was born, but Dad’s gonna bring pictures. Some of my mom’s stuff I never knew he had.”

“That’s awesome, Cas. I’m glad you two got to talk. What about Naomi? Is she—”

“Dad’s coming alone, it’s gonna be a father and son thing. I mean… I’m still worried it won’t happen. I guess we’ll see.”

“You know I’ll want to know everything, right?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I’m seeing Gad Friday night, but let’s do something Saturday, all right? Brunch if we don’t need to come into work, dinner if we do?”

Castiel nodded, smiling. “I’d love that. So things are going nicely with Gad?”

Hannah’s cheek reddened and she averted her eyes. “Yeah… we… hmm… we slept together this weekend.”

“You did? I thought you were a—”

When she looked up at him again, her eyes were wide in shock. “Oh… oh no! I mean, we slept, Cas. Literally. There was no sex. We cuddled and kissed, but we mostly talked and slept. Together. Spooning.” She sighed, a soft smile on her lips. “It was awesome. He smells so good, and he’s so big, and I felt so…”

“Loved?”

“Yeah, I guess. Loved, protected, and… Gad feels like home, Cas. He really does.”

“I’m happy for you, Hannah. Now, when do I meet this guy? Still need to do the big brother speech I promised.”

Laughing, Hannah gently slapped his arm before going back to work on their client while Castiel got caught up on what else they had to do that day. The hours went by quickly, the time to go leave work coming as a surprise for both Castiel and Hannah.

Once outside, they each went their own way, Castiel deciding to walk home since it wasn’t all that cold and the sidewalks were dry. As he walked, he hummed under his breath, starting to dread the moment he’d be back home. Alone. He may have put on a brave face all day, he knew it only had been easier because he’d been at work. He had no memories of Dean at work, but his apartment? Castiel could still feel him in the air and it hurt like hell.

Lost in thoughts, he almost missed the Impala parked in front of his place with Dean sitting at the wheel. The shock was enough to stop walking, but only for a second. Meeting those green eyes were enough to startle him into walking again, Dean getting out of his car at the same moment.

“Cas!” he called, which only made Castiel walk faster, hoping that Dean wouldn’t have time to follow him inside.

Dean had been fast enough, catching the door before it closed.

“Cas, goddammit, would you wait?”

And Castiel wanted to, he really did, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. He didn’t look back, making his way upstairs as quickly as possible. As he worked on unlocking his door, he heard Dean walking up behind him at a normal pace.

“Cas…” he said again, just as Castiel managed putting the key in the lock. He sighed, letting his forehead thump on the wood.

“What do you want, Dean?” he asked, facing the door.

Castiel felt something brush his lower back, Dean’s hand most probably, but it disappeared immediately.

“Can we go inside? Don’t feel like doing this out here.”

This time, Castiel turned around, a mix of pain and ire in his gaze. “Doing what, Dean? Why are you even here? We’re done, you know—”

“Inside,” Dean insisted, his own gaze pleading.

Castiel sighed again and nodded as he opened the door. He moved aside to let Dean in, then closed the door on them. He didn’t say a word as he took off his boots and winter coat.

“That’s new,” Dean said, brushing a hand against the red squishy fabric. “Don’t you like the blue one?”

“Would you like something to drink? Coffee maybe?”

“I wouldn’t say no to something stronger if you have it.”

Castiel nodded, putting his coat on the hook and going into the kitchen. “No need to stay near the door, Dean. You can come in.”

Dean gave Castiel a small smile and toed off his boots before putting his own coat on a hook. He came to sit at the table where Castiel had already put two open beers. Dean grabbed one and took a long swig, putting it back down with a soft thud.

He only spoke when Castiel looked him in the eye again.

“You’re a dumb son of a bitch, you know that?” he said, making Castiel gape at him.

“I—”

“Lydia’s not pregnant, Cas. And you know what? Even if she had been, it wouldn’t have changed a thing for me.”

“You want kids, Dean, I can’t—”

“As I said, you’re a dumb son of a bitch,” Dean repeated softly as he got to his feet. He came to crouch next to Castiel, putting a hand over his knee and looking up at him. “Yeah, I want a family. Doesn’t mean I wanna lose you. You know adoption’s a thing, right? Or… I don’t know… finding a surrogate.” He chuckled when Castiel’s eyes got even wider.

“M’not saying I want us to have a family now, dude. What I want right now is you. Unless you tell me having kids is not something you’ll ever want. Or if you say you’ll never want them with me. This, I can accept as a reason to not wanna be with me ’nymore.” He moved the hand from Castiel’s knee to cup his jaw. “If this was only a bit of fun for you, just tell me. And I’ll leave you alone.”

Castiel couldn’t hold Dean’s gaze anymore. He averted his eyes, his voice trembling when he responded. “You know it wasn’t, Dean,” he said, his chin trembling. “I just… I’m the first man you ever got with, and—”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“What if you realize you were wrong? What if you decide I’m not enough?”

“Why wouldn’t you be enough?”

Castiel shrugged, knowing he had no real arguments. Not when all he wanted was to be with him.

“Look at me… Babe, please, look at me.”

It took a couple of seconds for Castiel to comply, and when he did he knew he was done for.

“I’m sorry if my intentions were never clear to you,” Dean said, now with both hands cradling his face. “And I’m sorry if I left you alone on New Year’s Eve, but… I had to talk to Lydia.”

“I know, Dean, I—”

“We’re done, Cas. Lydia and I are over… she’s moving back to Atlanta and I already moved out. I’m renting a room over Ellen’s bar. I’m free, Babe. We’re free to be you and me. Free to be us, if you want to.”

“I—”

Instead of responding with words, Castiel found himself surging forward to kiss Dean. The moment their lips touched, it was like puzzle pieces falling into place as they melted in each other. Castiel joined Dean now kneeling on the floor and before long they were lying down, kissing. They did that for a while, until they moved away from one another, panting.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Dean said as they rested their foreheads together. “I can’t lose you. Not now, and not ever.”

“What if—”

With a huff, Dean shut him up by capturing his lips again, only for a second. He moved away to get to his feet, then held a hand out for Castiel to take.

“Come on, let’s go to bed. We got a whole lot of make-up sex to do. Better get a move on.”


	40. Chapter 40

 

Dean may have called it make-up sex, Castiel knew it had been more than that. For the first time, they actually made love. It had been slow, and tender, and sweet. They made love twice, each of them getting a turn as the bottom. And as they were falling asleep in each other’s arms, they had said it. 

It was Castiel who said it first, mumbling the words over Dean’s sweaty skin. He sucked in a breath, fearing Dean would start running to the hills. He didn’t, kissing him deeply instead before repeating the words back to him.

Now, at a little after midnight, they were lying in each other’s arms after napping for a little while. They were munching on cheese crackers right out of the box, washing them down with beer.

“So… I went to dinner last night.”

“At your dad’s? How did that go?”

“Disastrous, at first. But then I had a nice chat with my father. I spilled my guts, Dean. Told him everything, every little chip on my shoulder. He told me—did you know I never knew how my mom died?”

Dean shook his head, tightening his grip on Castiel’s midsection.

“I mean, I wasn’t sure, but Dad confirmed what I thought. She—she took her own life.”

“Oh, Cas… I’m so sorry. Do you know—did he tell you how she did it?”

It was Castiel’s turn to shake his head. “I’m supposed to see my dad one on one Thursday evening. Not sure how much he’ll want to talk about it, but I don’t think I want all the gritty details anyway. Just that he confirmed it was a big step, I guess.”

They didn’t speak for a while. Castiel had questions, but he wasn’t sure he had the right to ask them. Clearly sensing Castiel’s hesitation, Dean tilted his head so their eyes would meet.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked. “Whatever you wanna know, just ask. M’not about to hide things from you.”

“You do have a right to keep things to yourself.”

“If it’s something I’d rather not answer, then I’ll tell you. But you gotta ask. Don’t go and assume things again ’cause that only means trouble.”

“All right.” Castiel took a deep breath. “How is Lydia? How much did I hurt her?”

Dean scoffed as he brushed a couple of fingers over the faint bruise around Castiel’s eye. “She’s okay. You didn’t hurt her much, not like she hurt you anyway.”

“I didn’t know, Dean. I never would have hit her back if I’d known.”

“I know, don’t worry about it. I mean, at first she wanted to sue your ass, but I convinced her she had no chance in hell of winning. We have a whole bar of witnesses that saw her jumping you. If anything, you should be the one suing her.”

“I won’t do that.”

“No, I know. Just saying that you’d have a better chance of winning if you did.”

Castiel let out a contented sigh and turned to his side to face Dean, putting a soft hand over his stubbled jaw. He kissed his lips, ever so softly, and leaned back again to catch Dean’s gaze. His eyes were sparkling as he licked his lips, looking hungry again. Yet he didn’t move, holding onto Castiel as they both let the night envelop them.

He was about to fall asleep when Castiel felt Dean tap a finger over his hip.

“Cas?”

“Hmm?”

“You sleeping?”

“Getting there… why?”

Dean cleared his throat, prompting Castiel to open his eyes. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah… I mean… you haven’t gone to Facebook at all lately, have you?”

Castiel chewed at his lower lip. “I didn’t dare. Couldn’t bear the thought of seeing that you and the others had unfriended me.”

A faint smile appeared on Dean’s lips. “Guess that explains it, then.”

“Explains what?”

“You’ll see when you go back there. I swear, it’s good. Nobody’s unfollowed you if it helps.” Dean frowned when Castiel got out of his hold to sit up. “You don’t have to do this now, you know. We were about to fall asleep.”

“And you prevented me from doing so. To talk about Facebook, of all things.”

Castiel had to climb over Dean to grab his laptop on the other side of the bed, wiggling his way out of his hold to sit back on his side of the bed. He powered up the computer, sitting Indian-style with the device in front of him.

“This better be good,” he mumbled, eager to see how Dean’s status had probably been changed to single. What awaited him was far more exciting than that.

“Is this for real?” he asked when he saw the relationship request waiting for his approval. “Thought you didn’t want to upset Lydia? Or that you didn’t get why people did this.”

“Lydia’s already upset, it won’t change much of anything. And, well… you wanna do this, don’t you? You wanna tell everyone we’re together?”

Overcome with emotion, Castiel nodded. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Wouldn’t have done it otherwise,” Dean said as he jutted his chin toward the screen. “You gonna accept or what? I mean, can’t be single for too long, the ladies might just come flocking, you know?”

Castiel huffed, rolling his eyes as he clicked the button. For a moment, it was as if his heart had forgotten how to beat when he saw the relationship status update on screen. For the first time in his life, there was a tangible proof that someone thought he was good enough to be with them. He chuckled when he felt the tears roll down his cheeks.

“Dammit! My eyes have been leaking all week,” he said, hoping Dean wouldn’t judge him for it.

“It’s called crying, Cas. Means you’re happy, right?”

“You have no idea,” Castiel said, turning to see Dean’s own eyes brimming with tears. “I know it’s stupid, but—”

“Not stupid, Cas. I totally get it. I love you and I want the world to know it, all right? Well… our world, anyway.”

A series of dings coming from the computer prevented Castiel from jumping on Dean. His new relationship post had a couple of likes already and he had numerous friend requests.

“Looks like our world doesn’t sleep much,” he said as he accepted the requests from Ellen, Ash, Crowley, and Gadreel.

“Gadreel? Who’s that? He looks cute,” Dean said, a hint of jealousy tainting his voice.

Castiel smirked as he clicked on Gadreel’s profile only to see that, indeed, he did look good. “Very handsome,” he agreed before pointing at Gad’s own relationship status. “Hannah’s new boyfriend.”

He chuckled at Dean’s evident relief, leaning in to kiss him soundly on the cheek. “Don’t tell me you’re the jealous type, are you?”

Dean shrugged, trying – and failing – to appear unbothered. “We weren’t really together for a couple of days there, you could have met someone new.”

“That’s not how I roll, Dean. You don’t need to worry about me going behind your back.” He shook his head when he saw Dean’s face fall. “Crap… no, Dean. I didn’t mean it like that. I know it’s not how you do things either. All I ask is that… if you don’t want to be with me, if you find yourself falling for somebody else, then just tell me. It’ll hurt, but it’ll hurt less than the other option. And I swear to do the same.” He got to his knees to get into Dean’s space and straddle him.

“I don’t want to talk about an end between us. Not now, and possibly not ever.” He wrapped himself around Dean, breathing into his neck. “I’m sorry I even went there. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, Babe. Still, I promise that if… I promise I won’t cheat on you. Not ever.”

Castiel nodded, his lips on Dean’s tender skin, tempted to start sucking a bruise where his shoulder and neck meet. He didn’t, moving them around to lie on the bed instead, making himself the little spoon after putting the computer back on the floor.

“If you want, you can come to live here with me instead of renting a room from Ellen,” Castiel said right before he fell asleep, never getting to know if Dean had heard him.

The answer to that question came when Dean walked back into the apartment the next evening with his duffel filled to the brim with most of his stuff. Castiel’s heart swelled at the sight.

“Wasn’t sure you had heard me,” he said when he came to greet him at the door.

“I had, and now I know you didn’t hear my answer,” he said with a wink before kissing him. “I wouldn’t have suggested to come and live with you, but I was really hoping you’d ask.”

Castiel smiled as he took the duffel to go put in on the bed. “Just like you told me last night, when you have something on your mind, just ask. Even if you think I might say no.”

Only then did Dean notice the trench coat and the blue wool peacoat were back on the hooks. “Hey… the coats are back. Thought you’d gotten rid of ’em.”

“I couldn’t stand even the sight of them after I told you to leave, but I couldn’t have thrown them out either. They’re both very special to me. Like you are special to me.”

 

 

 

 

After that, it only took six months for them to start looking for a house, finding a small two garage cottage in Indian Hills in less than a month. It needed more repairs that Castiel would have hoped, but Dean managed to convince him, saying he loved manual labor.

And he did, the house almost entirely renovated when came time to host their first Thanksgiving dinner. It didn’t matter that traditionally everyone would go to Ellen and Bobby’s. This time, through careful negotiations, Castiel was able to convince them to hold dinner at his place. She and Bobby still helped with the cooking, because Castiel didn’t feel confident enough for such a feast, but it certainly helped to make them even closer.

Even Chuck, Naomi, and Samandriel were invited. Things had been better between Castiel and Naomi for months now, and he couldn’t have been happier. His sessions with Dr. Mills had helped a whole lot, Naomi even accepting to come in for a session to initiate dialogue. Life was good, in Castiel’s opinion, and it was about to get even better.

Everyone was seated at the table – well, the tables, because one wasn’t enough for the number of guests – when Dean got to his feet, hitting a fork on his glass.

“If I may have your attention… I know it’s tradition to go around the room to offer our thanks before we start eating. We’ll be doing that in just a minute, but there’s this one thing I gotta do first.” He looked everyone in the eyes, his smile widening when he found Castiel’s. “First, I want to thank you all for being here tonight. I know it’s a bit cramped, but since everyone seems to have taken a shower, it’s not so bad.”

There were a couple of chuckles, Dean winking at Castiel before speaking again. “As we all know, this last year has been awesome. I mean, almost a year ago, I met this guy,” he said, tilting his glass at Castiel, “who turned out to be the love of my life. We bought this house together, made it our own. I’ve never been happier, and I think it’s safe to say that he feels the same.”

“I do…” Castiel confirmed, a soft smile on his lips.

Dean’s smile widened even more at that. “Speaking of…” he started as he made his way to the other end of the table to kneel on one knee. He ignored the gasps that erupted around the table, his eyes never leaving Castiel. “I’ve wanted to do this since the day it became possible for us to do so, Babe.”

“Dean…”

“I thought of doing this at Christmas, but then your family wouldn’t have been there. Which is why I’m doing this now. I don’t have a ring for you just yet, but Castiel Shurley, will you marry me?”

“Of course… Dean, you know I will,” Castiel said before getting to his feet and pulling up Dean in a hug and a kiss under a thunder of applause and wolf whistles while the two grown men cried of happiness.

Something they would do a whole lot in the future and Castiel didn’t mind one bit.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Graphics for Grown Men Don't Cry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16361516) by [lotrspnfangirlgraphics (lotrspnfangirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotrspnfangirl/pseuds/lotrspnfangirlgraphics)




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